


Monsters with Munition

by rage_quitter



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Fake AH Crew, Ray Narvaez Jr (briefly)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 04:15:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8272450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rage_quitter/pseuds/rage_quitter
Summary: Every day might as well be Halloween for the Fake AH Crew. It's not easy, being a gang of criminals, and it's even harder when no one is totally human.(A series of adventures, shenanigans, and slice-of-life one shots.)





	1. Spark of Hope

**Author's Note:**

> this will probably end up being a series of one-offs set in the same universe. a collection of adventures of the fake ah monster crew. tags, rating, warnings, etc are subject to change
> 
> This is how Jeremy ends up joining the crew! tw for body horror

Jeremy gasped, stumbled, cursed, caught himself, and kept running. _Run, Jeremy, run, far away, anywhere, anywhere but home_ , he thought around his heart thundering louder than his feet like a drumbeat, like a countdown.

“Fuck, fuck,” he hissed as he jerked to the side, pain jolting up his leg with a soft crunching noise deep in his bones. It hurt, it hurt so badly. His blood howled in his veins and begged for him to release the sound. He swallowed it down and staggered onwards.

Beyond the beating in his eardrums, he heard distant waves and caught the smell of salt and fish. He was near the beach. His dark eyes searched wildly through the darkness to lock on darkened buildings. Storage warehouses; _thank God._

His jaw popped as he made a break for them, and he felt tears well in his eyes. His shoulders made sickening cracks as he pounded on a door, eventually crashing it open with a strength he was not used to. With shaking hands he shoved a heavy box in front of the door to keep it closed and dropped his meager backpack beside it.

 _Let go,_ whispered his blood

 _Hold on,_ pleaded his mind.

 _Stop resisting,_ growled his soul.

 _It hurts,_ whimpered his body.

With an agonized shout he fell to his knees, then all fours. His bones shattered in his body, rearranging and changing. He itched all over, too hot, boiling, his blood made of fire searing through every inch of him, burning from the inside out. His fingers dug deep into the concrete floor, nails turning black and heavy. His teeth rattled in his skull, crunching deep in his brain, making him cry out at the horrible sound and grip at his scalp with too-sharp nails. Hair scratched at his wrists and rubbed against his clothes. He raked at his shirt, trying to get it off, kicking his shoes away.

With a final shudder and shriek, Jeremy’s body exploded into a beast of muscle, teeth, and fur. He hunched over, saliva and blood dripping from his elongated jaws and shiny, sharp teeth. His black claws turned the concrete to gravel and the scraps of his clothes fell away as the tremors slowed and his body settled into its new form. His long tongue lapped over his snout, wiping away the crimson drool. With a soft growl he raised himself up on all fours and gave a vigorous shake of his dark fur all along his body, from his nose to his tail.

 _Free_ , thought the wolf. The moon sang in his veins, the smell of the sea not far from here thick in his sensitive nostrils. His pointed ears twitched, catching the sound of waves on sand, the very distant traffic.

The wolf turned towards the door, and growled at the crate blocking the way. _Fool,_ he thought. _Trapped._

Then the wolf caught the scent inside the warehouse, past the salt and the fish. Something… herbal. And something… metallic? Like fire, smoke. He tilted his head and sniffed harder at a box. This one smelled of the metal things. Another had that dried-bad-plant smell. He sneezed the smell out.

 _Trapped. Bad smells. Free,_ thought the wolf.

 

When Geoff’s phone rang, it was so dead silent in the office that he nearly pissed himself.

“Hello?” His voice cracked.

“Yo, Ramsey,” came a young voice in reply.

“What… yeah? The fuck are you calling me for?”

“On an errand, no time to drop in,” said the voice. There were cracks of gunfire in the background, followed by one much closer. “Fuckin’ headshot. Put that on my resume.”

“What do you want?”

“I mean, if you’re so busy you don’t care that something’s inside one of your warehouses-”

“Wait, there’s what?!”

The other man let out a soft laugh, nearly a scoff. “Yeah, I was heading past it to take out some asshole for some other asshole. The one by the beach. Heard a bunch of weird shit, I dunno. Like a bear or something.” Geoff heard him reloading.

“A bear? There’s no bears here.”

“Tell that to whatever’s in your warehouse, dude. Hey, fucker, watch where you’re shooting!” There was another loud crack and a distant scream.

“Shit,” Geoff said. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem. Hey, tell Michael and Vav I said hi for me.”

Geoff snorted. “Tell them yourself. Stop by sometime.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Later.”

Geoff sighed as he shoved his phone in his pocket. Of course on a night when he had time to work on organizing some paperwork, this shit would happen. At least it was late, and he’d finished most of it. Hopefully he’d be able to take care of this before dawn.

Keys, wallet, and generous array of weapons were stashed on his person before Geoff headed out of his apartment. It was dark and quiet, for once. The crew staying at their own damn homes instead of his. He did find one of Gavin’s jackets strewn across his recliner, though, so maybe the little British punk had snuck in.

Just in case, he scrawled a note in barely legible handwriting on a scrap of paper and stuck it on the fridge before he left. Down the apartment, to his private garage and waiting vehicles. He nodded to the building’s security guards, who were generously paid to ignore the crew’s dealings. Geoff contemplated a bike but shrugged and slid into his ridiculously expensive leopard print car instead. Michael hated it.

The streets were not too busy at this time, though certainly not empty. As Geoff made his way towards the beach, though, the cars became more sparse, eventually more few and farther between. Pulling out into the cracked, faded road leading to a series of warehouses, mostly owned by criminals and businesses, not that there was much difference between them anyway, there was no one else around. Just the nearby ocean and the moon hanging round and heavy in the sky.

The moment Geoff stepped out of his car, the smell that hit his made his nose crinkle. It smelled like… dog. Dog and fear and faintly of blood. Concern and caution filled Geoff. He pulled out a pistol as he moved slowly towards the warehouse.

Getting closer, he heard what sounded like some large animal inside. Claws scraping on concrete, soft growls, snuffling. Like it was pacing, he realized.

Geoff cast a glance toward the door. It was closed. He made his way toward it and gave a gentle push. Something was blocking it. Did the animal knock a box in the way? Locked itself in? No wonder it was frustrated.

Geoff looked upwards. These warehouses were fairly tall, two stories with windows on the upper half only and metal catwalks on the inside. He could get up to the windows and get in that way.

Geoff tucked his gun away and backed up. A jump and a climb up one story to a second floor wasn’t hard. It would be more difficult doing it quietly.

He took a running start to jump up as high as he could and grab onto the wall. He would never not be grateful for his innate abilities for climbing as he gripped a surface no human could climb barehanded and made his way up to the window.

Opening it was another job altogether. It took almost two full minutes of jamming a knife under the pane to jiggle it open. Finally, he lifted the pane and slipped inside. He carefully stepped on the metal catwalk, moving slowly, so he wouldn’t rattle it.

As soon as he was inside, he crouched down and peered over the edge into the warehouse. It was stocked with boxes, a maze of crates and containers, mostly containing weapons, ammunition, drugs, and some cash and jewels. Mostly rainy day storage and waiting to ship out the drugs and guns that the crew wouldn’t use locally.

It wasn’t hard to hear and see the beast. Its heartbeat was loud and warm, its claws clacking and scratching at the concrete, its muzzle snarling and snuffling at the boxes. Geoff’s eyes widened at the sight of the beast.

Not a bear. The size of a bear, though. Huge and very strong. He could see its muscles rippling under dark fur. It was on all fours, but he could tell that it could be bipedal, like an ape. It wasn’t an ape, either. Its tail was long and fluffy, waving stiffly behind it, and its front paws had partial thumbs. Its face was clearly canine, pointed ears angled back in tension and long muzzle baring heavy teeth.

It had been a very long time since he’d met a werewolf. He recognized it instantly.

What the fuck was a werewolf doing in his warehouse?!

Geoff’s attention was drawn to a bright green near the door. It looked like… a bag? A backpack. Scattered beside it, scraps of clothes littered the floor.

The mental picture painted itself. The wolf, pacing, looking frustrated, too bestial to be an experienced werewolf. Some pup, then, terrified, seeking refuge… trying not to hurt people… on the run from himself. Or herself. Or whatever. Sympathy bubbled in Geoff’s chest. He knew how it felt to be a new, out of control, frightened monster.

Silently, Geoff made his way back outside. He set up inside his car near the door of the warehouse to wait, and took out his phone.

 

Jeremy felt the wolf retreating before his body shrunk. His mind was shoved to the forefront of an enormous canine body. Dysphoria was normal to him, but this was a whole other level of wrong wrong wrong that sent him into panic until agony ripped him apart again, condensing his body, replacing claws with stubby fingernails and a hairy muzzle with dull teeth and stubble. He curled up on the ground shaking for a moment, feeling horror in his mind and discontent in the wolf’s.

Finally the trembling slowed enough for Jeremy to crawl for his clothes. His jeans survived, and so did his shoes, but his shirt was ruined. He tugged a spare from his backpack and dressed. With his mind clearing, he surveyed the warehouse.

 _Bad smell,_ the wolf told him. Jeremy frowned. The beast strengthened his human senses, though it was less powerful. It was still enough to catch that smokey metallic smell, and something more dry, more… herbal?

Gunpowder, he realize quickly. He smelled guns. Ammunition. Explosive components.

And the other smell. Drugs. It had to be. He stared around at the boxes. There had to be millions, if not _billions_ of dollars worth of weapons and drugs stored here.

He didn’t know why he was surprised. Los Santos was full to bursting with criminals and gangs. It would figure that he’d stumble into some storage facility for illegal paraphernalia. He didn’t touch anything, besides the crate he’d blocked the door with, so if they found out someone was in here at all, they couldn’t track it to him.

Then again, he realized as he looked down, the wolf’s diamond claws had not done the floor any favors. The gouges he’d ripped in were impressively deep. But that couldn’t be attributed to a person. Not that he was much of a person, but no one knew that. He was safe.

Jeremy shouldered his backpack and shoved the crate back where it was. He needed to find some way to either get to the wilderness and… become a hermit, or whatever, or he needed a way to get to the contiguous States and figure it out from there. A month should be good, if the moon’s effect didn’t make him change tonight.

Slowly, Jeremy opened the door. It was dawn, the sky still not quite blue. A couple of tiny stars were fading. That was the first thing he noticed.

The second thing he noticed was the absolutely ridiculous leopard-print car with piss-yellow lights underneath parked outside.

The third thing he noticed was the man in a slightly rumpled suit sitting inside, legs propped up on the dash, looking at his phone with one hand and drinking from a flask with the other.

Jeremy panicked.

The man looked up. Jeremy took a step to one side as the man pocketed his phone and flask and got out of the car. Jeremy took another step. The wolf was roused by his alarm, seeking an escape. His bones ached.

“Hey, kid,” the man called. He started walking towards Jeremy and-- _God, oh fuck_ , he recognized him, his face was plastered all over the news. Jeremy couldn’t help the whine of fear that escaped.

Jeremy couldn’t fight a crime boss, not Geoff _fucking_ Ramsey, not the entire Fake AH Crew. They were powerful. Almost idols to him, terrible idols, they were unstoppable and brilliant and almost comedic in their terrorizing of the city. They were kings, gods, with an iron chokehold of every politician and cop in the state.

But Ramsey didn’t have a weapon out. Jeremy could run. He could outrun anyone. Unless Ramsey returned to his car to chase him down, but Jeremy could lose him, it would take him enough time to get back in--

“Calm down,” Ramsey said. His voice was soft, gentle. Jeremy became aware of the whining in his throat, the shaking of his hands. “Don’t change, please, for the love of God, you’ll probably kill yourself.”

Confusion swept over the fear for a moment.

“I’m not gonna hurt you if you don’t hurt me, buddy,” Ramsey went on. He had his hands in front of him, like he was placating a wild animal. “You’re all right. Moon’s waning again.”

_He knew._

“I can help you, don’t run,” Ramsey pleaded as Jeremy shifted back again. Jeremy hesitated. Ramsey talked fast. “I know, you’re terrified, probably confused as fuck, probably in pain. But I can help you. I know what you are, and I know how to help.”

Jeremy stared at him.

“Do you know who I am?”

Slowly, Jeremy nodded.

“Okay, that’s… good?” Ramsey shrugged. “Whatever, anyway. You’re a werewolf.”

The word made Jeremy tremble. The wolf snarled. Jeremy swallowed it down.

“And haven’t been one long.” Compassion was the only expression on Ramsey’s face. “It’s scary. You’re confused. Hungry, anxious, fighting something inside of you. I understand better than you’d think.”

Jeremy froze.

_Ramsey was a werewolf too?_

The wolf disagreed. There was no wolf smell from the crime lord. The smell of blood oozed from him.

“Come with me,” Ramsey urged. “I can keep you safe and protect people from you. I can… well, maybe not me, but my friends, can help you control it.”

Jeremy shook his head slowly.

“You don’t trust me?”

Jeremy looked away.

“Or don’t trust yourself.”

Jeremy trembled.

“I’m not human,” Ramsey said. “My friends, my family, none of us are. You don’t need to be alone.”

The wolf didn’t trust him. The wolf fought to get away, to run and hide.

Jeremy took a step forward.

The wolf bit at him.

Jeremy reached for Ramsey’s hand.

The wolf howled in protest.

Jeremy sat beside the mob boss in the passenger seat of the hideous car. _Heated seats?_ He almost laughed.

Ramsey rummaged in the backseat and draped a sweatshirt over Jeremy’s shoulders. It didn’t look like it would fit Ramsey, and didn’t really smell like him either. Jeremy pulled it closer regardless. It was comforting.

“What’s your name?” Ramsey asked as he put the car in drive.

Jeremy took a moment to speak. “Jeremy,” he said, voice quiet.

“Good name,” Ramsey said. He started driving for the city. “How long ago did you get bit?”

“... A couple months. This was… the third time.”

Ramsey nodded. “So you’re just a pup, then. I think that’s the term werewolves use for the newly bitten.”

“What about… what’s it, like, whelp? From Skyrim?”

Ramsey stared at him for a second before bursting into laughter. His laugh startled Jeremy, utterly jovial and impossible to forget. “Oh, God, I forgot about that, it’s been a while since I played that game. No, yeah, I think that’s an actual thing, but I’m pretty sure it’s offensive.”

“Oh.”

Ramsey continued to giggle--yes, _giggle_ , what the fuck--for another several minutes. Finally, he sobered a little. “So. Jeremy. You from around here? You don’t really sound that local.”

Jeremy shook his head. “My family moved here from Boston about a year ago. Military family.”

“Boston?” Ramsey sounded interested. “I went there a couple times. Bet it’s way different now than when I last visited.”

“Probably not,” Jeremy said. “When did you go?”

“Uh… I think it was… 1920?”

Jeremy jerked forward to stare at him with wide eyes. “I’m sorry?”

Ramsey grinned widely at him. His eyes flashed deep red for just a moment, and his canine teeth were fangs.

“I might not relate exactly to you,” Ramsey said, turning back to the road, “but I know how it feels.”

Jeremy stayed silent the rest of the trip. The only sounds were the soft purr of the engine, the quiet, obscure rock on the radio, and the traffic.

The wolf seemed a little unsure about Ramsey now. There was fear, distrust, but curiosity and a little hope. They hadn’t met another supernatural creature until or after the attack… and here Jeremy was, sitting in a leopard print car worth more than any house he’d ever lived in with the boss of the most dangerous criminal gang in the city, who also happened to be… a vampire, or something.

Jeremy’s life had sure taken an interesting turn in the past three months.


	2. All that we see or seem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy's first month with the Fake AH Crew is coming to a close with the arrival of the full moon. He'll be spending it with the crew member he knows the least about... and is the most afraid of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for body horror

The first full moon since Jeremy joined the crew was approaching. He was terrified.

He wasn’t technically an official member of the Fakes yet. He was still staying with Geoff so the he could keep an eye on him. He was being trained, day by day, how to shoot and escape ties and identify drugs and weapons and about all of the different criminal factions. He was also receiving one-on-one help on his own werewolfism problem from Michael, who apparently had a huge-ass library in a weird sort of pocket dimension. Perks of the job, Michael had told him with a shit-eating grin as he ripped open a portal to the library. 

Michael was also busy brewing up potions to ease the transformation and setting up magical barriers and other weird things Jeremy didn’t really understand that well. He felt guilty, like a strain on their resources, but the whole crew assured him otherwise. 

“Geoff,” Jack brought up the subject a few days before the full moon. “Do you have a plan?”

Geoff looked up from his desk. Jeremy was sitting nearby, reading a book Michael gave him on lycanthropy. Jack looked concerned, standing in front of him. 

“For…?”

“Jeremy. The moon’s in a couple days.”

“Oh, fuck. Yeah, I do, don’t worry.” 

Jeremy couldn’t help but listen in. The book was incredibly dull, and his sensitive hearing picked up their soft words easily. 

“You sure as hell can’t leave him in here,” Jack said.

“No, I won’t. I’m having Ryan go with him, keep an eye on him. Take him out to the mountains so he can run around and whatever. Jeremy mentioned that the wolf doesn’t like being confined so I figured that would be enough space.”

Jeremy was touched that he’d remembered the comment, but also nervous about Ryan. He still wasn’t… totally sure about what Ryan was. Something reptilian, it seemed, but he was always wearing that mask. He was kind of scared of him. The Vagabond, in the flesh, was a million times more terrifying than any police sketch of his skeletal mask. 

“Are you sure? I mean, they haven’t been alone together at all.”

“Who else can go with him? Lindsay, maybe, but I doubt she could stop him safely without hurting him or burning down the whole damn forest. I can’t trust Gavin with a stick of gum. I don’t know if I could safely stop the wolf, either, and I don’t think the wolf trusts me yet.”

The wolf agreed.

“You and Michael are too squishy. Ryan’s immune, he sure as hell can’t even be bitten, and I’m sure if worse comes to worst he can just carry Jeremy somewhere else.”

Whatever Ryan was, he was terrifying. Jeremy kept his breathing as steady as possible, trying to keep his pulse even, so Geoff couldn’t hear it change. 

_ You better behave, you son of a bitch,  _ Jeremy hissed at the wolf. 

It couldn’t laugh, but he felt a dry amusement from it. He wasn’t sure what that meant.

As the day of the full moon drew nearer and the wolf became restless and agitated, Jeremy felt sick to his stomach and his bones ached as the moon pulled at his blood like the ocean tides. Ryan lurked around Geoff’s apartment more often; obviously he’d been briefed on the situation. Geoff’s explanation to Jeremy was vague, saying that he was sending him and Ryan away from the city before he changed. 

“Jeremy,” said a deep voice behind him as he was growling softly at the gun he was trying to remember how to clean. 

Jeremy jumped and sat up straight. “Oh, hi, Ryan!” he said quickly. The wolf snarled softly, tail tucked.

“We should be leaving soon,” the masked murderer told him calmly. His icy blue eyes, eerily reptilian with slitted pupils, stared at him, setting him on edge. “Do you need anything before we go?”

“Uh… I don’t know?” Jeremy admitted. “I mean, probably a change of clothes, I guess. Um. Food might be a good idea too, ‘cause if I eat before, then the wolf won’t wanna hunt, really. He’s kinda lazy, honestly.”

“We can bring food. I’ll pack something if you get your own clothes packed.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. Thanks.” Jeremy left his dismantled pistol on the table and scurried to the guest room where he’d been staying. He felt Ryan’s creepy eyes boring holes in his spine until he was out of sight. 

Jeremy breathed out a sigh of relief and set on shoving a spare set of clothes into a backpack, as well as a blanket, because turning back left him shaking and the weight was reassuring. He double checked his calendar to make sure that he had taken care of all his medicines this month. Geoff was more than happy to accommodate Jeremy’s unusual medical needs that were actually not that unusual to the crew at all. 

When Jeremy returned to the other room, bag shouldered, his gun was sitting on the desk, cleaned and put neatly back in one piece. The Vagabond was nowhere to be seen, but Jeremy heard a noise from the kitchen. Jeremy headed that way, curious.

“...going all weekend? Why can’t I come?” whined a familiar English voice.

“Because you’re a piece of shit, Gavin,” answered the deeper voice of Ryan. “And knowing you, you’ll get Jeremy killed or trapped in the faerie land or gods-know-what.”

“Not fair!” Jeremy peered in the kitchen to see Gavin perched on the counter, pouting, arms crossed. He looked borderline-ethereal as always, his golden hair and glittering jewelry catching Jeremy’s breath in his throat, unfairly attractive, with an alluringly dangerous air about him. Something that marked him as clearly otherworldly, something magical. The wolf growled at him every time, distrust seeded deep in the beast, for it knew more than Jeremy did.

“It’s absolutely fair,” Ryan said. He stood up from where he’d been crouched to rummage through a cabinet. “Fuck, what food does he like? I should have asked. Oh, shit, he doesn’t have allergies, does he? Can werewolves eat chocolate?”

Gavin shrugged. “Only one way to find out!”

Ryan smacked at Gavin’s knee, earning a bird-like squeal. “I’m not gonna see if it poisons him, you asshole! That’s why you can’t come.”

“Ryaaaaaan,” pleaded Gavin, putting on all his charm. 

“No,” Ryan said. Jeremy blinked as Gavin’s Charm fell away; Ryan was immune to Gavin’s little tricks too? “I’ll get Michael to get that iron ring out and trap you again.”

Gavin gasped. “Ryan, no!”

Ryan grabbed the sugar bowl. “I’ll spill it! Don’t make me!”

“Ryan, no, please, Ryan!” Gavin was giggling, though, clearly hearing the amusement in Ryan’s voice.

Jeremy had never seen Ryan like this before, light hearted and playful. He’d honestly thought that he was some kind of demon or something, that he was heartless and cold. It definitely threw him for a loop.

Jeremy waited until the two fell quiet before actually entering the kitchen. “Hey, guys,” he said.

“Hi, Jeremy,” Gavin greeted with a wide smile. “Ryan won’t let me come with you.”

“Geoff won’t either, buddy,” Jeremy said. “Maybe a couple months from now. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Gavin looked surprised. Like the idea of Jeremy hurting him hadn’t even crossed his mind. “Oh. Huh. I… yeah, good point.”

“I think this should be good,” Ryan said, peering in the bag he stuffed with snacks. “Unless there is anything you can’t eat?”

Jeremy shook his head. “Nope.”

“That’s good, then.” Ryan zipped up the bag. “Unless there is anything else we need before we leave…?”

Jeremy shrugged. “I  don’t think so.”

“We should be off, then.”

“Bye, you two!” Gavin slid down off the counter to give each of them a lazy hug. “I’ll let Geoff know when he gets back. Good luck!”

“Thanks, Gav. See you later, ” Jeremy said with a nervous smile. His knuckles went white against the strap of his bag as he followed Ryan to the door.

The trip down the elevator and to Geoff’s private garage was filled with an awkward silence. Jeremy couldn’t keep still with the wolf restlessly pulling at his limbs. Ryan didn’t mention it, or anything at all, for that matter.

Ryan’s car was a terrifying black and green vehicle. It looked fast and mean, standing out stark against Geoff’s more pink and hideously flashy collection. The doors slid up with the tap of the button in Ryan’s hand. 

Jeremy was tense as they got in the car, despite the comfortable black leather seats. He kept his bag on his lap as Ryan started the car. The windows, tinted dark, blocked out the light so it felt more like dusk than early afternoon when Ryan pulled out of Geoff’s garage. The inside was lit with a gentle neon green from the dashboard.

“So,” Ryan said after a solid minute of silence. “I’m thinking we get McDonald’s first.”

“McDonald’s?”

“Yeah, I’m hungry, and not really in the mood for granola bars. I want a quarter pounder and a milkshake. And also, fuck everyone else, they can get their own food.”

It was ridiculous. They were rich as hell; Jeremy had seen Geoff worry more over losing a pen than his gold-plated watch. “Yeah, I could go for some fast food.”

“Cool.” Ryan turned his head just a bit, and Jeremy could tell he was smiling under that mask. His eyes glowing blue made it more unnerving than Ryan intended.

Jeremy was terrified throughout the drive. Ryan drove like a madman, though it was far less frightening than Gavin, who didn’t even have a damn license. Ryan drove like he was trying to flip Death the middle finger.

“Drive through or eat in?” Ryan asked as they approached the fast food place. “You gonna explode into a giant wolf in the restaurant or are you okay?”

Jeremy flexed his fingers, felt the moon heavy in his blood and the wolf huffing in his brain. “I’m fine for a few more hours. I’m not even trying to hold it back yet. I think he knows we’re leaving town and is fine with waiting.”

“He being…”

“The wolf,” Jeremy explained, sudden anxiety bubbling in his chest. Had he explained this to Ryan before? “It’s like… I’m not the wolf. It’s in my head, though, we both sort of… share a body.”

“Is it… he… sapient too?”

“Uh… kind of? He understands most things pretty well. He can hear and see and feel everything I do, just like I can when he’s got the body. He’s still, you know, a dog, just a really smart one. It’s hard to explain.”

“So the wolf can hear me right now?”

“Yep.”

“What is he saying? Thinking, whatever? I’m curious.”

“He… he’s afraid of you,” Jeremy said quietly. “You frighten him. He doesn’t know what you are. I don’t, either. I think he is holding back on the change so he doesn’t have to face you himself.”

“Hm. He is smart, then,” Ryan said, almost to himself more than to Jeremy. 

Jeremy stayed quiet as they pulled up to the McDonald’s. Ryan parked and stared at the dashboard for a minute. 

“You okay?” Jeremy asked cautiously.

“I think we, or at least I, am a little… conspicuous.” He reached up to tap his mask. “This will get the cops on our asses immediately.”

“That would be bad.”

Ryan unbuckled and shrugged off his jacket. He stuffed it behind the seats as Jeremy tried not to stare at his arms--Jesus, that was totally not fair-- and retrieved a plain blue hoodie. Sweatshirt zipped halfway up now, Ryan flipped down the visor to peer into the little mirror. 

Jeremy watched, completely enraptured, as the notorious Vagabond pulled the rubber skull off of his face. 

Jeremy had noticed that the usual dark circle of his facepaint was absent, so he now got a full view of Ryan’s face. His eyes widened. The Vagabond was  _ hot as hell _ .

“Aw, my hair’s a mess,” Ryan grumbled. He yanked out his ponytail, shook out his blonde waves, and raked it back up with his fingers. Jeremy felt speechless. Ryan did not look like a mass murderer at all. 

At least, not until his still-glowing, piercing blue eyes turned to look at him again, and the wolf snarled in Jeremy’s head. “Do I have any lines from the mask?”

“Uh…” Jeremy blinked, trying to kickstart his brain. “No. You’re fine, uhh, no lines, I mean.”

“Thanks,” Ryan said, checking one more time in the mirror. “Those are annoying to deal with. Let’s go.”

Jeremy felt a little dazed as they exited the car. It was only when the doors slid down behind him that he frowned. “Uh, Ryan?”

“Yo,” Ryan said, raising an eyebrow. Jeremy swallowed.

“Isn’t your car a little… obvious? How many people in the city have a black and green Zentorno?”

“You’d be surprised,” Ryan said with a shrug, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “It hasn’t gotten me thrown in jail yet. Plus, Michael put some wards on it to be inconspicuous.”

“Oh. That makes sense, then.”

Ryan gave a laugh at Jeremy’s tone and led the way to the restaurant. Jeremy couldn’t help comparing himself to a lost puppy, the way he followed Ryan around. Or anyone in the Crew, for that matter, as of late. He sort of was a lost puppy, if he was honest. He’d never say it, but the wolf snorted in dry amusement at the comparison. 

They waited in line, like the other regular civilians milling around. Jeremy was terrified that at any second someone would recognize them and start screaming, calling the cops, any number of things. But no one seemed to look at them twice. Even though it was fairly busy, people were on their phones or talking to other people or watching the news on the TVs by some of the tables. 

They put in their order, Ryan paying in cash for both of them, and Jeremy was unnerved by the normalcy of it all as they carried their trays to a table by the windows away from other people.

“Oh, thank God, not Pepsi,” Ryan said, filling his cup with diet Coke. 

Jeremy laughed as he looked for the root beer. 

They were a few bites into their food when Ryan asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jeremy said when he swallowed his mouthful of fries. 

“You seem a little… distracted.”

“Oh. It’s not… you know. It’s actually this.” Jeremy gestured to the restaurant. “It’s so… I dunno. Feels like any other day I’d stop by with my parents on the way somewhere, or with my friends after class. Weirdly normal. Compared to the last month? Hell, the last four months of my life, really.”

Ryan nodded. “I understand. There’s a pretty big difference between being a literal beast, hunting in the dark, with claws and an insatiable desire for death, and picking onions off your burger because you forgot to ask for none.”

Jeremy snorted, watching him carefully pull a ketchup-covered onion from under his bun. “Not even just that,” he explained. “Even between this and being with the crew. The most dangerous weapon here is a plastic knife.”

“I mean, that and the… six? Six guns I have? Is that right?” 

“Jesus,” Jeremy said with a shake of his head.

Ryan laughed. “No, I get it. And what you’ve seen isn’t anything compared to actual fights and heists and shit. You’ll probably get there in a couple months, I think. Geoff has a good feeling about you.”

Jeremy looked up, trying to control the curiosity on his face. “Really?”

“Yep. He told me he got a good vibe when he picked you up. You’re smart, and that’s important in this job. You can find some pretty unique ways to get out a situation or fix a problem in a kinch. We’ve been watching you for the past month, trying to figure out how we can put you in the crew when you’re ready. I can tell you that I think you’ll fit in just fine.”

Jeremy practically glowed at the praise. He was so scared to be a burden to them, and here was the Vagabond of all people, telling him he was creative and smart. 

He still couldn’t shake that anxiety of dragging down the Crew, the only people who could possibly understand him and what he was going through, the only people who could help him, who could stop him from hurting people. Whether it was his own, or stemmed from the wolf’s animosity towards these people keeping it locked away, he wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter either way, though, really.

They finished their meal in quiet, something akin to companionship. Jeremy let himself relax, though the wolf was restless, crawling through his veins. At least it wasn’t sprinting, yet, not gnawing on his bones and tearing through his flesh.

Taking their refilled drinks, they left, Jeremy feeling once more that weird nostalgia as they got back in the car. It subsided with the doors sliding closed and the eerie green glow from the dashboard on the leather seats.

Ryan started the car and they headed back on the road. Other than the traffic muffled through the soundproof glass and the quiet music on the radio--today’s latest hits or whatever, some default station--there was silence. Silence that left Jeremy alone in his head with the wolf and in the car with Ryan. 

He wanted to ask Ryan questions. What was Ryan? What kind of creature was he that his eyes let off that unearthly blue glow, his pupils narrowing to ophidian slits? He’d spoken of transformations, of being a beast; what did he mean? Jeremy knew he wasn’t a werewolf, like himself. But he was immune to Jeremy’s… disease, could never have the wolf invading his brain and his body like a hairy, supernatural parasite. Geoff had said Ryan couldn’t even be bitten, but surely that was exaggeration. 

Even Ryan’s personality was strange. Up until today he was quiet, cold, almost robotic, bloodthirsty. Even in his oddly chatty conversation today he was peculiar. He said weird things, was chipper about death and destruction. He spoke of hunger, desire for flesh. What on earth could Ryan be?

And besides that--where were they going? Were they just going to tough it out in the woods for the night? Did they have some safehouse or something they were going to lock the wolf in? The wolf did not like that idea at all. 

And what if he did hurt someone? Could Ryan really stop him? He didn’t doubt for a second that Ryan knew how to kill him, and would in a heartbeat if he had to. But could he stop him in time?  _ Would  _ he stop him in time? Or just let the wolf hunt, kill, eat? Let Jeremy deal with the fallout of knowing he’d hurt someone, killed someone, or even worse, passed on his fate? Would Ryan come to the crew later, tell them how vicious Jeremy was, let them lace him full of silver and aconitum until the wolf tore itself from his entire body and ripped them both into shreds?

Ryan didn’t seem like the type of person to do that to him, but Jeremy had only known him a month, and honestly wasn’t sure if he even was a person. 

What about tomorrow? If everything somehow went well, the wolf didn’t hurt anyone, Jeremy didn’t end up lost miles from civilization in the woods or the mountains, what then? 

Jeremy could see the mountains rising ahead of them and to their right now as they sped along the highway. The sea crashed to their left and the little town of Chumash came as went, and they headed off the highway onto a small dirt road south of the river. On either side rose mountains. Jeremy hoped that there would be enough space here for the wolf to be satisfied. 

By now it was late afternoon, and the wolf was itchy. Jeremy could feel his skin crawling now. It was maybe an hour before he’d have to really struggle to keep the wolf locked in. 

“We’re almost there,” Ryan said, breaking the silence.

“Where… exactly is ‘there’?” Jeremy asked. 

“Safehouse,” Ryan explained. “Not used in a while, but Michael and Lindsay came and made sure it was cleaned up and usable for the night.”

“It’ll be spotless, then,” Jeremy joked.

Ryan laughed. “Yeah, probably. It’s mostly just for before and after you go all wolf-man, and to store all our shit in between. And if you need to sleep it off tomorrow before we go back into the city.”

“I might,” Jeremy said. “It’s exhausting.”

Ryan nodded. “I assumed as much. I don’t need much sleep, so I’ll be fine. It also should have electricity and water, so no need to shit in the creek. River. Whatever it is.”

Not five minutes later, Ryan was pulling off the road onto a dirt path leading to a small, low building. He parked in front of it and the pair got out, stretching limbs sore from hours of travel. 

“Not much, but it’s better than sleeping on the ground.” Ryan shouldered his bag and headed to the building. He unlocked it with a keycard and passcode and held open the door. Jeremy hurried in after him.

Inside, it seemed like a hotel room crossed with a military barracks. There were three sets of bunk beds that looked comfortable for bunk beds, metal chests, a small kitchenette, and a bathroom. A desk was against the wall opposite the beds and there were folding chairs and tables as well. 

Ryan dumped his bag on one of the bunk beds and rummaged in the pockets until he pulled out a plastic bag with a card in it. “Keycard for the building,” he explained. “Passcode is zero seven two four.”

“Zero seven two four, got it,” Jeremy said. “Uh, problem, I can’t carry it around. Wolves don’t have pockets, and I don’t think he’d appreciate me keeping it stored up my ass.”

Ryan let out a laugh. “I’ll hide it outside, there’s a piece of the siding loose on the left of the door at the bottom, hidden by a rock. Done on purpose, of course. Go ahead and do whatever you need to do while I take care of that.” Ryan slipped outside.

Jeremy flopped down on one of the bunks and groaned into it. His muscles were already aching. He heard his bag slip off the bed and onto the floor but didn’t move to get it. The bed was pretty comfortable and he didn’t want to move yet.

“You okay there, Jeremy?” he heard after a few moments. The door clicked closed.

Jeremy groaned again. “No.”

“Is there something wrong, or just…”

“The usual,” Jeremy said, turning his face to speak. “Jesus, you think periods hurt. I mean, they do, they fucking suck, but that’s one organ being all mushed up in your body. All of them doing that at once? It hurts, man.”

Ryan winced, looking sympathetic. “Sorry,” he said. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“I guess I’ll get used to it. Or it’ll get better, or something, eventually.”

“You’re really one of those ‘take it as it is’ sort of people,” Ryan commented.

“Can’t change it, so what’s the point? Just gotta live and learn, or whatever.” Jeremy’s fingers twitched on the bedsheets. He was getting jittery now, which felt absolutely great with the soreness of his entire body. He huffed and wished he could hit the wolf with a rolled up newspaper or something.

“How long until it happens?”

“Probably like. Forty five minutes, unless I hold it off, but it hurts more. I could do it now, I think, but it usually happens most naturally around dusk.”

Ryan sat down on the bunk across from Jeremy. “Whatever hurts the least, then. You don’t really need to worry about holding it off. I’ll make sure nothing happens.”

Jeremy sat up, hair disheveled. “I… this has been bothering me all day. How? How come Geoff wanted you, over everyone else? What can you do that no one else can do to stop me, to stop the wolf? What are you, exactly?”

Ryan looked down at his hand. Jeremy watched as his nails grew out into ivory claws, black scales began to creep down his fingers, the muscles rearranged to something weirdly similar to the wolf’s paw-hands. 

“I wish,” Ryan said, “that I could say I am a natural shapeshifter. Or maybe, I’m glad I can’t say I am. I’m still trying to figure that out. I… have a… curse, or a blessing. I was a horrible, horrible creature. I was a monster in the most literal sense. I cared for nothing but myself, full of greed and hunger. Someone with a lot of power stripped me of all power to teach me a lesson. It took me a long time to learn how to feel anything but selfishness and lust and jealousy. And I was grateful to her for her curse on me. I still don’t know why she did it in the first place. Once she knew I was no longer the terrible monster I was, she allowed me my power back, but I would not take it in its entirety.”

Ryan looked up to meet Jeremy’s eyes. “I fear if I let myself use that power, I may succumb once again, and become that monster once more.”

“You’re not human. You never were, were you?”

“No,” Ryan said. “This is as comfortable as I could possibly be in a human form. It has certainly changed over the years, in some aspects,” Ryan tugged at the end of his ponytail, “but largely has remained the same.”

“What are you, then?”

Ryan sighed and looked away. “I… am not comfortable sharing that right now. Something that should have died a long time ago. Just know that I am very old, very powerful, very aware of that, and very careful. And I am your friend, Jeremy Dooley.”

Jeremy nodded, slowly. “Okay,” he said. “I’m not entitled to everyone’s secrets. That’s fine, man. If you can make sure that the wolf doesn’t hurt anyone, you could be the fucking Easter Bunny for all I care right now. I’m still super new to the crew, I gotta prove my worth and whatever, that’s all cool, I don’t wanna push any boundaries.”

“I respect that,” Ryan said. “Thank you.”

Jeremy went to say something like “you’re welcome” but his jaw locked as a tremor ran through him. “Fuck,” he hissed as the wolf thrashed.

“Are you all right?”

Jeremy growled and shook his head, shoving at the wolf and thinking of the cold winters of Boston to try and cool his boiling blood. “No, it’s getting close. Too early for this, dammit!”

“Do you need anything?”

Jeremy struggled with his jacket. “It’s hot. Fuck, it’s fucking hot in here. Worst thing. Too hot.”

Ryan reached over to help him. Jeremy was panting now. The wolf was not happy, and it wanted out,  _ now _ . 

“He’s pissed,” Jeremy said. “He’s cooped up and scared and frustrated and he wants out.”

“Is it going to hurt you?”

“Yes. The wolf will be okay, though. Please, Ryan.” Jeremy grabbed his hands in his shaking fingers and stared at his glowing eyes. “Don’t let me hurt anyone. Promise me.”

Ryan kept his gaze. “I promise, Jeremy. I will not let you, I will not let the wolf, harm anyone.”

“Thank you.” A jolt of agony ripped up Jeremy’s spine and his fingers had a vice grip on Ryan’s for a moment as a whine slipped out from Jeremy’s teeth. When the pain subsided enough to talk, he talked fast. “Should transform back around sunrise. I’ll be me, but wolfy body for a few minutes. Gonna panic. Then I’ll wanna sleep.” His jaw crunched a little bit and his shoulder jerked. “Fuck--should have said earlier. Clothes. Don’t work.”

Ryan blinked. “Oh. I, yeah, that makes sense. Do you, uh, want me to leave, or, or what?”

Jeremy let go of Ryan and scrabbled to tear his shirt over his head. “Don’t care anymore,” he said, voice hoarse. “Don’t leave me, Ryan.”

Ryan’s hands were gentle and unwavering as he helped Jeremy. “I’ll stay with you,” he said. 

Jeremy got to his feet, every joint popping aggressively as he did, and struggled from his pants. Ryan averted his eyes respectfully, but Jeremy could not have cared any less at that moment with fire searing through his entire body and his bones crunching as he moved. Leaning on Ryan, Jeremy got to the doorway and managed to get into the bushes as blood welled in his mouth from his bitten tongue and rearranging organs. 

Jeremy fell on all fours, panting, as his claws ripped up the dirt. It felt much better, cool, soft dirt, compared to rough concrete. The hideous itch all over marking fur made him twitch uncontrollably. With a sound more like a howl of pain than a yell, he let the wolf take over. 

 

Ryan had met werewolves before. Once, a pack terrorizing a small town in Germany. He’d taken them all out. Werewolf deaths were agonizing. Another time, he’d met a very nice couple who let him stay a night in their home. They had been wolves for so long together that they had a nearly flawless system in place and a neighboring friendly vampire coven to help them out. 

He hadn’t seen a new werewolf’s transformation before. It was a nightmare. Jeremy was clearly in agony. His bones were breaking as he moved, his flesh literally crawling as his insides moved around under his skin, blood mixing with drool from his mouth. 

The wolf was about as tall as Ryan’s human form. Short for a werewolf, but Jeremy was short for a human, so it made sense. The beast was well-muscled though, for sure. Ryan watched it rise from the bush and stare at him with dark eyes. Its ears laid flat and its tail tucked low as it growled a soft warning.

“Hey,” Ryan said gently, holding out his hands in a calm-down motion. “It’s okay, buddy, you’re safe. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

It continued to snarl softly. 

“You heard me earlier. I’m only going to keep you safe and make sure no one else gets hurt. You’ve got plenty of room to run and do whatever it is you want, as long as you don’t harm anybody.”

The wolf tilted its head a little. It looked sort of like Jeremy. Its fur was the same dark brown as his hair, and its eyes were eerily similar to Jeremy’s. 

“I’ll let you run around and whatever you want,” Ryan said to it. “I’ll keep an eye on you, but I’ll leave you be. Do you understand? Is this acceptable?”

The wolf stared at him for a few seconds. Ryan wondered what it was thinking. Was Jeremy still in there, watching and listening? Translating for Ryan, perhaps? Eventually the wolf relaxed a bit and let out a soft woof sound. Ryan lowered his hands as it dropped on all fours and trotted off upstream. 

Ryan kept his eyes on it. Once it was a fair distance, his wings unfurled from his back with an all-too-familiar spark of heat that always shimmered through his body when he transformed in any way. Each wing was as long as he was tall, batlike in appearance, with a nasty-looking white claw at the end of each digit. He rolled his shoulders and gave an experimental couple of flaps; it had been a while since he’d last flown by himself.

With one forceful thrust down with his wings, Ryan launched himself in the air. For a brief moment, he let himself be carried away by the feeling. Nothing compared to it. Being suspended, at the mercy of the winds, air filling his wings, the feeling of utter freedom. The sinking rays of the sun were warm against the black leather of his wings, although the night air was rapidly growing chilly. The fire that ran through his gut kept him warm in the iciest of temperatures, though. 

Ryan kept himself in the air and looked down. It wasn’t too hard to spot the wolf. It was a large creature and there weren’t too many trees here. Ryan followed it from the sky, circling around like a huge bird. 

For some time the wolf roamed around aimlessly, occasionally chasing halfheartedly after a rabbit or other small animal. For a little while, the wolf splashed around in the river, jumping after fish. It was amusing, and almost cute, if it wasn’t an enormous canine-human monster with two-inch fangs that could easily crush a man’s skull. Not Ryan’s skull, of course, but still.

Ryan thought his job was much easier than he, and Geoff, had originally worried when he saw the wolf suddenly freeze. Ryan spun himself around, looping back in a tighter circle, narrowing his eyes at the ground. What was the wolf doing? 

Then he saw the small camouflage tent. He would have missed it without his supernatural eyesight. A hunter, or poacher, probably looking for deer or rabbits, or maybe fishing. Some combination of them. 

Whatever purpose that person had, they had no idea the danger they were in. 

Ryan’s wings folded and he let himself plummet toward the earth. 

The wolf started to bolt in for the chase when Ryan landed heavily in front of it. His wings flared out and his claws grew long and sharp on his hands. Black scales crept outwards from his eyes down his face, the pale blue glow of his eyes glinting eerily off the shiny keratin. He bared his fangs, easily as long as the wolf’s. His tail lashed behind him, vicious hooks the same bone white curved out from the end.

The wolf looked startled, skidding to a stop with a yelp of surprise. Its ears laid flat, tail tucked in, and it skittered backwards.

Ryan hissed at the wolf, smoke puffing out from his throat. He shook his wings a little, making him look bigger. Not that he really needed that; his partial transformation gave him rapidly growing height.

The wolf backed up, looking afraid, and slunk away from the tent, back toward the river. Ryan sighed and let his human facade take over once again. It ached, letting his scales melt away and stubby nails replace his beautiful claws. He paid the deep longing for his once powerful, terrifying true form no mind as he took to the skies once more.

 

Ryan was nowhere in sight when Jeremy blinked into the rising sun. It felt like static for a moment as the wolf retreated, unusually fast, before his entire body returned to him. A wolf’s body. 

Jeremy knew it was coming, but it was no less horrifying. He spun in a panicked circle, fur fluffed, nearly toppling over from his limbs disagreeing with him on where to go. 

It felt like minutes, terrible minutes, until Ryan appeared in his peripherals. Jeremy stopped dead, panting heavily, and stared at him. He looked… totally normal, besides his usual freaky eyes. 

Very unlike what Jeremy witness through wolf-o-vision earlier. 

“Jeremy?” Ryan asked cautiously.

Jeremy whined, ears going flat. He ducked his head.

“Is that you, Jeremy, or still the wolf? If it’s you, uh… nod or something?”

Jeremy robotically bobbed his head.

“Oh, thank the gods. You’re all right, it’s almost sunrise, just another minute or so.”

Jeremy already knew that; he could feel the itching fire licking through his body already. 

Ryan took a step towards him. Jeremy instinctively stepped back, away from him, hunching to look smaller. Ryan stopped.

A look of utter confusion took over Ryan’s face. “Jeremy? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Jeremy didn’t know what to think. He was so gentle now, but earlier… what the fuck was Ryan? 

“Can you head back toward the safehouse? There’s a first aid kit there if you’re injured, you can eat and rest and we can call and let everyone else know it went all right. Geoff texted me a couple of times already.”

With slow movements, eyes watching Ryan, still on high alert and much of the wolf’s instinct, Jeremy crept towards where he knew the safehouse to be. He gave Ryan a wide berth, still not sure what he was feeling besides trepidation and guilt and a growing anxiety. Ryan still had that look of confusion.

Jeremy felt his bones start to shake and shift and weaken, making him stumble, as he made his way back. Fortunately, he wasn’t far when he collapse with a howl, writhing through the faster but more painful transition from wolf to human. He stayed curled on the ground, shivering from the residual pain, covering as much of himself as possible. 

He heard footsteps and shrank into himself. Ryan had already seen him totally naked; the shame of it was only now catching up to Jeremy, adding another layer of fuck-you feelings to the pile.

Something soft touched Jeremy’s shoulder, and he jumped when it fell across his back. He looked down to see dark blue, and up to see Ryan draping his hoodie over him. Ryan gave him a worried look, trying a reassuring smile. 

“Hi, Jeremy,” Ryan said in a soft voice. “Are you okay?”

Jeremy’s voice was hoarse when he spoke. “I don’t know.”

“Are you injured?”

Jeremy shook his head. 

“Let’s get you inside, and some food and water in you, then we can talk, okay?”

Jeremy nodded. It was easier to be silent for a while until his throat stopped hurting so badly. Slowly, Jeremy got to his feet, covering himself with Ryan’s hoodie. Fortunately, Ryan was tall and broad, so the hoodie covered him, although just barely. Ryan kept a respectful distance when Jeremy shied away from him again, thought that anxious expression remained steadfast. 

Ryan was quick to open the door and usher Jeremy inside. Jeremy hesitated, considering swapping the sweatshirt for a blanket, and ended up wrapping a blanket around himself without taking off the sweatshirt at all. He curled up on the bed he’d claimed, exhaustion already taking over with the adrenaline settling out. The little trickle of it remained, though, keeping him hyperaware as Ryan locked up again and hunted for water bottles and snacks.

Jeremy was more than eager to chug down an entire water bottle and cram an entire granola bar down his throat, despite feeling like he was recovering from strep or something. The water helped.

Finally, Ryan was sitting criss-crossed on the other bed and Jeremy had finished eating. It was silent for a minute.

“You’re afraid,” Ryan said.

Jeremy nodded.

“Of the wolf?”

Jeremy made a face, head tilting. Not really. He put the point across enough, apparently.

“Of… me.”

Jeremy looked down at the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Ryan said. He sounded earnest. “I really am. I didn’t want the wolf to hurt anyone, and scaring him, you, was effective. I told you. What I am… at least the wolf is only going on instinct. It’s an animal. It cannot reason, has no sense of morality, of right and wrong. Only survival. What I am… most of my kind is long dead now. We caused our own demise through our selfishness, our greed, and I am lucky to have survived. I would not have, of that I have no doubt, if it were not for my curse-turned-blessing. I was among the worst during our peak in power, many, many years ago.” 

Jeremy reached a hand out from his blanket cocoon to brush Ryan’s knee. “Can you tell me what you are? What happened? So I can understand. I don’t think I’ll be so afraid if I knew. The wolf, either.”

Ryan let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “No, you probably will be. Our reputation precedes us well. Hundreds of books, stories, legends, movies, told about my kind. Some more kind than other, more willing to give us the benefit of the doubt, but those of us who were really like that? Who wanted to help humanity, be kind and social and selfless? Very few and far between, and more often killed by others of our kind or entire armies of men out of fear caused by the rest of us.”

Pity crossed Ryan’s face. “I’m sorry, Jeremy, really, I am. But I just can’t tell you right now. I want to, but I just… can’t. You can… ask Michael, or Geoff, they can tell you, but I can’t talk about it with you yet. I feel like I will be able to… someday. I hope you understand.”

Jeremy felt a pang of familiarity. The circumstances were different, but Jeremy could hear words so similar from his own mouth years before to his parents. “I do,” he said softly. “I understand, Ryan, it’s totally fine. Tell me when you’re ready.”

Ryan’s smile was a little sad, a little guilty, a little grateful. “Thanks.”

“Hey, it’s cool. I get it. You did what you had to do. And I totally understand why you want to hide part of your identity. Trust me, I do.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. That reminds me, do you need a moment? To dress?”

“Oh, shit.” Jeremy bumped his knees together in his blanket cocoon. “Yeah, that’d be helpful, Rye.”

Ryan stood and patted Jeremy on the shoulder. “Knock on the door when you’re done,” he said before exiting.

Jeremy put on his change of clothes once the door was shut, mind elsewhere--namely, on the man outside.

Jeremy still felt a little nervous. Ryan was something scary. Something powerful and dangerous and whatever bat demon thing he’d become earlier, he suspected it wasn’t what Ryan truly looked like. Hell, maybe he was a demon. Would certainly explain the heat of his flesh, his glowy eyes, claws, wings. But he didn’t want to assume. The thought didn’t feel quite right either. He couldn’t place why. 

But whatever Ryan was, Jeremy knew he was a friend. Someone he could trust. Ryan trusted him to show him his face, admit that he could not talk about his real self yet. The honesty and openness was something Jeremy would not take for granted. 

The wolf seemed to have settled down, as well. It sensed that Jeremy trusted Ryan, and begrudgingly gave in. It wasn’t willing to push, anyway; it preferred the idea of having such a powerful entity on its side, rather than as an enemy. For now though, the wolf just wanted to sleep.

Jeremy pulled Ryan’s jacket back on after he was dressed, unwilling to give it up yet. He gave a couple sharp raps to the door and wormed himself back into his cocoon as Ryan came back in.

“How are you feeling?” Ryan asked, getting a water bottle for himself and setting one on the shelf beside Jeremy.

“Tired as hell,” Jeremy said. 

“You can sleep,” Ryan told him. “There’s no rush. I’ll make sure you’re safe, I’ll call Geoff and let him know how everything went. Sound okay?”

Jeremy hummed in agreement and curled up on his side. “Sure thing, buddy. Night. Or, morning, or whatever.”

Ryan laughed. “Get some sleep, Jeremy.”

Jeremy was just awake enough to notice when Ryan set another blanket over him. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jeremy is a gay
> 
> i probably could update the ship category but maybe not yet, im working out the ship details still. 
> 
> Chapter title is half of a quote by Edgar Allen Poe: "All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream."
> 
> come talk to me on my tumblr rage-quitter!


	3. Ring Around the Red Caps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one could possibly escape a fairy ring. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no content warnings for this chapter!

Gavin felt it the moment that someone stepped in one of his circles. 

Like someone stepping on his grave, was the best way he knew to describe it. But… if it weren’t creepy, not a threat.

“Pardon me, Jeremy, love,” he said to Jeremy, who he was aggressively losing to in a video game. “Faerie business is calling.” Before Jeremy could even react, Gavin blinked out of sight. 

It wasn’t necessarily teleportation, Gavin’s blinks. They were short jumps from place to place, stepping into the faerie world’s barrier for fractions of a second. It didn’t take him long to get there, set out a little by itself near the forest northwest of the city. Just barely off of a path.

Gavin gracefully stepped up to the circle of mushrooms and--

Saw no one.

A scowl took over his face. “Son of  a bitch!” he hissed. This was the third time this had happened! No one ever escaped his circles! It was impossible!

Except it wasn’t, obviously. Because it had happened three times recently. In a seething rage that he hid easily behind his golden sunglasses and suave demeanor, Gavin returned home.

He was ready the next time it happened.

Gavin lurked near his ring, invisible, perched in a tree and scrolling through Twitter on his phone. He kept near it for days, waiting, much to Geoff’s annoyance, but his friend and boss accepted his weird faerie habits for what they were. 

He felt the shiver down his spine and blinked next to the ring. He kept invisible for the moment and looked to see who it was.

Gavin’s eyes widened. 

“Michael?”

The man in a beanie and a hoodie, looking like a grumpy college student with a bag stuffed full of mushrooms, turned to look towards him. Michael frowned. “What the fuck?”

Gavin dropped his invisibility. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Getting potion ingredients, dumbass, what are you doing?”

“You’re getting them from my bloody circle!”

“This is yours?” Michael looked down at the mushrooms. “Oh, fuck, dude, my bad.” He stepped out of the circle, and Gavin’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

“Wha- what-- how--”

“Spit it out, Gav.”

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Leave the circle! Is it you doing it recently? Walking in and out?”

Michael pulled up his sleeve to reveal a heavy iron circlet on his wrist. “I’m loaded up on iron, dude. I’ve been visiting here to grab potion ingredients, they’re really good quality. I didn’t know it was yours, boi, sorry.”

Gavin let out an incredulous laugh. “Of all the people to be waltzing through my fairy rings, I did not expect it to be you.”

“Yeah, well, didn’t expect these to be yours. But I’m glad they are, ‘cause I know how to deal with you if you trying to drag my ass into the faerie world.”

“Michael, I’d never!” Gavin mocked offense and siddled up to the witch’s side.

Michael scoffed and nudged him. “Nah, ‘course not, we’re bois.”

“Tell you what, Michael boi, you can take ingredients from here whenever you want. I’ll let you know when I make new ones, and maybe see what I can make ‘em from.”

“Thanks, Gavver.” The two started to amble in the direction of the city. 

“What kind of potion are you making, anyway?”

Michael laughed mischievously. “Trying to make something to make Geoff hiccup bubbles.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idiot boyfriends
> 
> come stop by on my tumblr rage-quitter!


	4. Heal my heart, Drown my woe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old habits die hard... or don't die at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for alcoholism and blood drinking.

Jack sat up when she heard the light ding of the elevator from where she was sitting in Geoff’s penthouse, by the windows, reading. The doors slid open and she heard mumbling and cursing. A moment later, a thud and a swear. 

Jack set her book aside and stood up. She crossed her arms and waited.

Geoff stumbled into view. His suit was rumpled, tie undone and buttons uneven. His hair was more disheveled than usual and he had a bottle in one hand.

He didn’t notice Jack at first as he threw his keys on a random table and raised the bottle--straight whiskey--to his lips. 

Jack cleared her throat.

Geoff choked on his drink, doubling over and sputtering. Jack didn’t move, only watching him with pity and a little disdain. “Jesus-- fucking hell, Jack, what the fuck?!” he coughed out.

“It’s late,” she said. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Fuckin’... I don’t know. Three? It’s not that late.”

“It’s almost dawn, you idiot,” she snapped. She gestured to the windows and the sky outside, growing light. 

Geoff’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit. My bad.”

“My bad,” she repeated. Jack shook her head. “You’re drunk.”

“I can’t get drink, ‘m a fucking vampire,” he grumbled, lifting the bottle again.

“You can,” she corrected. She moved, finally, walking over to take the bottle from him. He grunted a protest, but she held the bottle out of his reach. “You were at a bar again, drinking from some poor drunk assholes until their blood got you hammered and then you drank on your own.”

“You can’t prove shit,” he said, making another attempt for the whiskey.

“Geoff,” Jack said. “Sit.”

“Give me my drink.”

“Sit the fuck down,” she snarled, shoving him backwards until he fell heavily onto an armchair. “Stay here.”

Jack headed to the kitchen and upturned the bottle over the sink. She watched the alcohol swirl down the drain. She returned to Geoff with a large glass of cool water.

“Drink,” she ordered. “I’m heating blood for you, too, but water first.”

“Jack,” he protested.

“Don’t start,” she said. “Drink the water, and then you can talk to me.”

He huffed, but sipped. The alcohol must’ve made him thirsty, because after taking one sip he was much more eager to drink it.

When the microwave beeped Jack took out a mug filled with a dark red liquid. She gave it a stir with a plastic spoon that she threw in the biohazard container with the empty bag of blood. This too she gave to Geoff. She drew the curtains and curled up in the recliner beside his armchair.

Halfway through his mug, he spoke. “Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Jack gave him a soft smile.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I got carried away.”

“Again.”

“Again.” He looked down into his mug. “I’m stressed.”

“I know. We all are. But getting blackout drunk isn’t gonna help anyone, least of all you. Besides, you don’t need to worry quite as much anymore. Lindsay has the crew under control. She’s smart, and she knows what she’s doing. You can relax.”

“I know,” he said, sounding a little miserable. “But I can’t help it. You guys are my family. I’d be long dead without you. And that includes Jeremy now too, he’s one of us, I don’t care that he hasn’t been here long, that kid deserves so much god damn love and none of the shit that he has to deal with now. Being a werewolf, losing his parents and siblings and his whole life, living a criminal lifestyle just so he can survive, not to mention that he’s clearly not used to feeling accepted for who he is?” 

“You’re absolutely right, Geoff,” Jack said, “but getting drunk won’t help him feel better. It won’t keep the hunters at bay. It won’t stop Funhaus from trying to take our territory.” She reached over to hold his hand in both of hers. His hands were cold; they always were. “We need you, Geoff. I need you. Okay?”

Geoff’s face softened, and years and years of life weighed on his face. Jack knew he’d always had a problem. Maybe the ancient Roman in Geoff; she couldn’t be sure what it was. She herself was fortunate; despite the Greeks’ similar love of drink, her nymph nature helped a lot with preventing inebriation. But for Geoff, even his vampirism could not stop him from finding a way.

“I need you too,” he said quietly, squeezing her hand. “I’m an old fool. And old drunk fool. I forget that I don’t have the weight of the world on my shoulders. I forget that I don’t have to bear all our problems by myself.”

“You don’t have to try to manage everything on your own,” Jack agreed. “I’m here for you. Ryan is too, and Gavin, Michael, Lindsay. Jeremy. Even Ray, even though he’s not here now. Matt and Trevor and Mica and Steffie. All of us. We need you as much as you need us. We’re a family, Geoff. Let us help you.”

“It won’t go away overnight,” Geoff murmured. “Hard to break a habit you’ve had for two thousand years.” 

“I know. I’m not expecting it to. But try. Curb it, as much as you can. Cut back. Whatever we need to do, we can do it.”

“You’re too good for me, Jack,” Geoff said, lifting her hands to press into his cheek. “I don’t deserve a family like this.”

“You do,” she said firmly. “You’re a good man, Geoff Ramsey. You’ve got a heart bigger than anyone else I’ve ever met. You’ve made mistakes, but so has everyone else in this world. I’ve thought that for as long as I’ve known you, and you know it, too.”

Geoff smiled at her. “I ever tell you I love you?”

“Every day,” she replied. 

“Not often enough.”

She laughed. “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title excerpted from a quote by J. R. R. Tolkien.
> 
> Come stop by my tumblr, rage-quitter!


	5. Puppy's First Heist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All's well that ends well, right? Even if shit really hits the fan in between.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for typical verse-canon violence. also, first mentions of ragehappy.

They really got fucked over this time.

Their getaway car was riddled with bullet holes, Jeremy was bleeding between the fingers pressed to his shoulder, Michael had run out of bullets and was incantating spells frantically. 

So far, Jeremy's first official job with the crew wasn't going well.

It started out just fine. The plan was easy: a simple jewelery heist from a shop downtown, drive up to the desert to lose the heat, chopper with Jack and Lindsay, and a fly out to Geoff's yacht to celebrate for a few days until they got word it was safe to return. 

It went smooth as butter for a while. Gavin went in first to get a lay down and charm the people inside to reduce collateral damage. By the time Jeremy and Ryan, the latter in his Vagabond outfit and Jeremy in a garish purple and yellow costume, burst in with machine guns and yells, most of the patrons of the shop had left already. It was only one guy, apparently, cowering beside a cabinet as Ryan cracked the butt of his gun on the security guard's face. The two employees looked terrified.

"On the ground, hands were we can see 'em," Jeremy barked. "No one needs to get hurt."

Gavin, who had hopped out to drop his illusion, returned in his golden boy getup. He took his shiny golden gun and smashed the glass on one of the cases. The shopper whimpered in fear.

Gavin lifted a necklace with one long fingered hand to examine it. "Pretty," he said. "Not the best quality, but good for what you're charging for it." He scooped the jewelry in the case into a bag and moved on to the next one. 

Ryan gave Jeremy a nod. Jeremy started helping Gavin, copying how he broke the glass and deftly removed the jewelery. The sharp broken edges pricked his fingers but never broke skin.

"Hey, pal," Jeremy heard Gavin say. He looked over to see him leaning over the single customer. "What were you buying?"

The man gulped. After a moment he shakily pointed to the small box on the undamaged counter. 

Gavin reached over and popped it open. "Oh, lovely! An engagement ring?"

The terrified customer nodded. 

Gavin tossed the box to him. "Congratulations," he said. "Keep it."

The man gripped the box like a lifeline as Jeremy and Gavin collected the rest of the jewelry. 

"And there we are, all unharmed, like we promised!" Gavin giggled and shouldered his bag. "Let's go, boys!"

Jeremy followed after him, Ryan at his heels with his weapon ready. They darted quickly for their getaway cars, two simple stolen black sedans waiting in an alley with Michael at the wheel of one, Geoff and Matt in the other. Jeremy and Ryan jumped in with Michael, Gavin with Geoff and Matt. 

“We good?” Michael asked as they slammed the doors shut.

“Yeah! Go, go!” Jeremy yelled. Michael gunned it and the car rushed out into the street followed by Geoff. Sirens were already blaring in the distance.

“We might be clear already,” Jeremy said. 

“Don’t jinx us,” Michael warned. “We gotta get all the way up north to the chopper. Glove box, earpieces, put ‘em in.”

Jeremy grabbed them and handed one to Ryan; the earpiece looked like a Bluetooth. He put it on.

Ryan had to help him figure out how to get it to work, but once it did, he jumped a the cacophony of cheers and yells. “Jesus fucking christ!”

“What the fuck?!” Michael snapped, taking a hand off the wheel to grab at the earpiece. 

“We fucking did it, boys! Jeremy, buddy, welcome to the crew!” Geoff yelled victoriously. 

Jeremy laughed, incredulous. They did do it! 

“We only did phase one,” Ryan cautioned. He was listening intently, scanning out the windows. “I don’t know if we’re gonna make it out of the city without getting attention.”

The words sobered the celebrating crew. With the quiet now, Jeremy was worried; the sirens were getting much closer. “Shit.”

“Michael, go right, we’ll keep left,” Geoff said. “We’ll split up and meet on the eastern side of the island.”

“Gotcha, boss,” Michael said. He hardly bothered with his blinker. 

“There enough range on these earpieces?” Jeremy asked.

“They work all over San Andreas,” Gavin assured. “They’re top quality.”

“Modified by yours truly,” Matt’s voice said smugly.

“And enchanted by me,” Michael told him. “They’re like, everything proof, too. We’re fine, dude.”

Somehow, despite seeing red and blue flashing around corners, they all made it to the other side of the city. Michael held his middle finger out of the window at Geoff’s car, earning honks from other drivers and Matt making a face at them, only visible through the dark tinted windows because of the red glow of his right eye on his face.

Just as they were pulling on the highway, the sirens were suddenly much, much louder.

“Oh, fuck,” Jeremy said, turning to look out the back window.

“Look alive, boys,” Ryan drawled, checking that his gun was loaded. “We’ve got company.”

“Of course we do,” Geoff grumbled.

Gavin was giggling. Jeremy saw the other car’s window roll down and a hand laden with jewels stuck outside, elegant golden gun held in sure fingers. “Wouldn’t want to be a disappointing welcoming committee, then, right?”

“Keep us on course, Michael,” Ryan said as he followed Gavin’s lead. Jeremy was more hesitant, especially as they got on the highway and Michael floored the accelerator. Bullets began to ping off the road and the police were shouting through megaphones over the sirens.

Ryan’s gun blasting a hail of bullets at the cops made Jeremy wince; it was incredibly loud on his too-sensitive ears. The wolf was not a fan of the noise. 

“Jeremy, come on, man, need your help!” Ryan barked.

“Right!” Jeremy hurried to open the window and leaned out a little, gripping his gun a little too tightly and way too awkwardly. His training didn’t include car chases. He steadied his breath as best he could and aimed for the tires. The wolf protested the loud sounds with a shrill whine in his head. He gritted his teeth.

One of the cop cars suddenly veered off to one side into the partition, clipping another one into spinning wildly on its way. Matt shouted in celebration in Jeremy’s ear. 

“Nice shot!” Jeremy said. 

“Fuckin’ cheater,” Michael joked. “Probably had your robo-vision on.”

“Michael, I always have robo-vision on. My options otherwise are a little limited.”

As they barreled down the highway, cars were clearing out as fast as possible. A collection of choppers were moving in from the city. Reporters, probably. Jeremy frowned. 

In his distraction, he didn’t notice a bullet aimed too well. Pain exploded in his shoulder. Jeremy yelped and ducked back in the car.

“Jeremy!” came a concerned chorus. Ryan looked inside the car at him, but kept shooting. 

“Fuck, fuck, shit,” Jeremy whined. He clutched the wound with one hand. Hot blood stained his fingers, filling the car with a coppery smell.

“What the fuck happened?” Geoff asked, voice shrill. 

“I got fucking shot!” Jeremy replied. It burned like nothing else, like the bullet was made of magma. The wolf was howling in pain, and he was shaking violently, keeping the change at bay.

“How?!” Matt asked. 

“What do you mean, how?! With a gun, idiot! Fuck!”

“You’re a werewolf,” Michael said, eyes flicking up to look at him in the rearview mirror. “Bullets shouldn’t hurt you that much.”

“Tell that to the bullet. Fuck, it fucking hurts!” Tears pricked at Jeremy’s eyes. He couldn’t be damned about crying; he had every right to!

Ryan ducked back into the car. “Move your hand,” he said, voice gruff but gentle. With a low whine, Jeremy peeled his bloody fingers away from his shoulder. Ryan’s fingers barely touched him, his eyes intent and bright as he examined the wound. His sharp intake of breath sent alarm bells ringing in Jeremy’s head. 

“It’s burned,” Ryan said. “Not enough to cauterize, but it’s burned around the wound. This wasn’t a normal bullet.”

“It’s silver,” Michael said. He punched the steering wheel. “Fuck! God dammit! They know?!”

“Those aren’t cops!” Gavin yelled, the realization coming to him faster than anyone else. “They’re hunters! They’re posing as cops!”

“That’s illegal!” was the first thing Jeremy’s pain-wracked brain thought to say.

“Keep pressure on the wound. We gotta get those hunters off our asses before we can meet up with Jack and Lindsay,” Ryan said. He picked up his gun again and leaned outside to fire. Black scales were visible creeping up his neck.

Jeremy and the wolf whined, clutching the wound, trying to force the blood to stay inside. Bullets pinged off the car, and a sudden crack of the back window being shot startled him. 

Michael started hissing under his breath. The smell of magic, something completely indescribable, met Jeremy’s nose. 

“There’s more coming!” Matt yelled. 

Ryan stopped firing. “Boys,” he said. “I’m gonna do something drastic. Michael, Gavin, please use all of your illusion magic.”

“Ryan,” Geoff started.

“You’re not gonna, are you--” Michael said.

“I am,” Ryan said grimly. “Unless you have another idea to take out a small army. Throw up a bubble or something, so no one else can see me. I’ll get rid of them. You get Jeremy and the jewels to the chopper. I’ll meet you at the yacht.”

“Are you sure?” Geoff asked.

“It’s not like it’s gonna kill me,” Ryan said irritably. “I’d rather do this than risk Jeremy bleeding out next to me, and someone else getting fucking killed too. I’ll be fine.”

“What are you doing, Ryan?” Jeremy asked.

“Whatever it is, you better do it fast,” Matt warned. “There’s like, half a dozen cars and a couple vans and at least two choppers after us. Jesus, these hunters have it out for us. It’s a whole fucking army!”

“Well, more like a platoon,” Geoff corrected, a little absently.

“What the hell are hunters?” Jeremy asked. It took him a minute to process everything with more blood leaking through his arm than feeding his brain.

“Exactly what they sound like,” Geoff explained. “They’re people who hunt us. Monster hunters. They’re everywhere. I knew there were a lot of them in Los Santos, probably because there is a pretty big collection of monsters here, but there’s like an entire gang after us!”

“Michael,” Ryan warned. Jeremy could see his eyes glowing brightly, his claws digging into the car. 

“I can’t keep driving and keep it up,” Michael warned. “I’ll have to stop, move Jeremy to Geoff’s car, and then stay.”

“It’s dangerous!” Gavin exclaimed.

“You can’t make an illusion spell this big, I can handle myself, I’m a big boy,” Michael snapped. “Geoff, on my count, gun it, and stop when I give the signal. Matt, Gavin, get ready to take Jeremy and get the fuck out of here.”

“Michael, wait,” Gavin started.

“Ryan and I will meet you later. Hold on, Jeremy.”

“Holding.”

“Geoff, on three.”

The back window cracked again. Ryan cursed as a bullet slammed into his armored chest. Matt yelped as another singed past his hair.

“One.” 

Jeremy let out a violent shudder. Ryan looked at him in concern.

“Two.”

Jeremy shook his head and shoved at the wolf. It would only make things worse.

“Three!”

They all jerked violently as both cars shot forward. They were already going pretty fast, but holding back for traffic and better aim for the shooters. Ryan’s claws dug into the metal roof as he held on, and Matt’s metal hand dented the other car. That window wouldn’t be closing anytime soon. Or ever.

Jeremy’s head lolled as they sped away from the sirens. 

“Okay, Geoff, stop in three, two, one!” 

The cars squealed as they ground to a halt. Michael spun his car so Jeremy’s door was closer to Geoff’s car. Gavin and Matt jumped out.

Jeremy struggled with the door for a moment, his bloody hand slipping on the handle. Ryan slithered out the window and provided cover fire as Gavin and Matt hauled Jeremy out and dragged him to Geoff’s car. 

Michael got out, leaving the door open, and crouched behind the car, chanting and tracing symbols with his fingers, leaving faint glittering trails. The air seemed to waver, and Jeremy was fairly sure he could see a dome of faintly blue light take form around the road. 

Jeremy yelped as his shoulder was jostled while Matt and Gavin shoved him in the car. “Ryan, we’re getting the hell out!” Gavin yelled. “Michael’s got it up! Do it!”

Jeremy turned his head to watch Ryan even as Matt was clamboring over him to the passenger seat beside Geoff.

The hunters had stopped as they did, and Ryan picked a few off as they scrambled out of their cars. They looked mostly like cops, but Jeremy could see weird weapons on them besides pistols and shotguns. Nasty looking knives, iron crowbars and poles, even a couple of swords and long stakes of wood. 

They didn’t really seem to know what to do when none of their weapons harmed Ryan. 

A low growl, nearly a laugh, impossibly loud, sent a chill down Jeremy’s spine. 

Ryan’s transformation was far smoother than Jeremy’s ever was. It was terrifying and elegant and very fast, flowing from his face to his long, lashing tail. He grew ten feet, twenty, the size of a three story building. Even his clothes simply vanished as scales covered him and spines and wings erupted from his back. Like magic.

Jeremy could hear the hunters’ screams from inside the car. Matt’s gaping mouth mirrored Jeremy’s own. Ryan lowered his head toward the hunters and let out a roar that shook the earth and rattled Jeremy’s teeth.

Geoff gunned it as the enormous dragon pounced forward with claws as big as Jeremy’s torso, blue flames spitting from his throat.

Jeremy felt the border of Michael’s magic as they drove. Static washed over him for a second, and when he looked back, he didn’t see the dragon anymore. He saw… something. But his brain didn’t let him register what it was, no matter how hard he tried.

“What the fuck?” Matt asked. “What just-- what the fuck?!”

“Ryan’s a dragon, it’s somethin’ he doesn’t talk about, he was like a big piece of shit a long time ago and he feels all guilty about it,” Gavin explained casually. He pulled out a pocketknife and cut Jeremy from his jacket to press the ruined fabric against Jeremy’s wound. 

“Fucking dragons,” Jeremy said incredulously. “Ryan’s a dragon. Jesus Christ.”

“Of all the things he could be,” Matt said, “I would never have guessed he’s a goddamn dragon.”

“It took him ages to tell Geoff and Jack and… the rest of ‘em about it,” Gavin said. “Michael figured it out pretty fast with all his witch books and whatever. He and Ryan get along too well. Michael lets him use his magic library for his book hoard. And his weapon hoard. I knew ‘cause I’m a bloody faerie and we got a talent for knowing what people are. And Lindsay’s just old as hell and knows, like, everything.”

“It took a long-ass time for him to trust us,” Geoff said. “So it’s clear that he trusts you guys enough to show you. He knew we were still in the bubble.”

“That’s his real form, then,” Matt said. “Holy shit. He looks cool as fuck. How can he stand being human if he can be a motherfucking huge-ass killer dragon?”

“He told me,” Jeremy said, words slurred a little from dizziness. “The first full moon. Said he was selfish, greedy. Evil. Got cursed, or something, and when whatever cursed him saw he was humble let him change back, but he was like, too scared that he’d be a monster again.”

“Yeah, Meg’s real nice like that,” Gavin said.

“Who?”

Geoff snorted. “Meg Turney. Trickster goddess, got Gav and Ryan both wrapped around her little finger and she’s coming for Michael and Lindsay next. Not that I’d blame anyone falling for her, ‘cause she’s hot as fuck.”

“She’s gorgeous,” Gavin agreed. “Really nice, for a trickster, and always happy to compromise in relationship stuff. Never pushes us around. Though she was real pouty that one time you turned us down, Geoff.”

Geoff grinned at him in the rearview mirror. “Hey, bring it up again later.”

“Maybe when I’m not fuckin’ dying, please,” Jeremy mumbled. The wolf scratched at him, but seemed too exhausted to attempt to take over anymore. His body gave a weak shudder. 

Geoff’s smile turned into concern. “Sorry, buddy. You holding in all right?”

“Uh… yeah. Y’know.” 

“He’ll live,” Gavin said. “Might need to see a doctor first though. He’s lost a lot of blood. At least now you’re not panicking, so you aren’t bleeding as much.”

“That’s good.” Jeremy’s head lolled. 

“We’re almost to the chopper. Hold on, boys.”

Jeremy wasn’t sure how long it was between then and when he was violently shaken awake by a burning, jolting pain shooting through his shoulder. Gavin and Matt were dragging him from the car. He gave an attempt to stumble with them, and through his foggy brain realized he was being set down in a helicopter. He blinked blearily at feminine faces joining Gavin’s, Matt’s, and Geoff’s. 

They strapped him in tightly and fitted heavy headphone things--he didn’t know if they had some official name, and didn’t really care at this point--on his head. As Jack climbed back into the cockpit with Geoff behind her, Lindsay sat beside Jeremy. Matt sat on the other side of the chopper, his one red eye slowly blinking; he was communicating with someone through his brain-internet. Probably Trevor, waiting for them on the yacht.

“This will probably hurt,” she warned through the headset, “but we need to stop the bleeding before you lose any more blood.”

“Can’t hurt more than a silver bullet,” he mumbled. “Don’t let me die, Lindsay.”

“I gotcha, buddy, don’t worry,” she said. She took a deep breath and moved the bloody makeshift pad off his shoulder and tore away his stained sleeve. Jeremy kept still as her hands, always warm, prodded painfully at the wound. 

“Gav,” she said. “Hold his hands. He’s probably gonna freak out a little bit and he can’t dent your hand like he could Matt’s.”

Gavin flopped beside Jeremy and slipped his chilly fingers, a shock compared to Lindsay’s, into Jeremy’s hand. He grabbed his other hand too, folding it over Jeremy’s stomach to keep him fairly still.

“Okay. Three, two, one.”

Jeremy yelped and tensed, suddenly glad for the inhumanly strong faerie pinning his arms, as Lindsay’s fingers burst into flame and burned across the wound. The wolf howled, suddenly trying to break through, but Gavin’s cold hands gave him something to focus on besides the fire. 

It was only a second or two, but felt impossibly long, before Lindsay removed her hands. “It’s not the cleanest,” she said, “but it’s not bleeding anymore. We’ll take of it when we get to the yacht, we have first aid there.

“Wolf,” Jeremy mumbled.

“What?”

“Wolf. It can help.”

“Is he trying to talk?” Lindsay asked Gavin.

“I don’t know, I don’t speak dog. Jeremy, you’re growling, love, you all right?”

Jeremy frowned. “Shit.”

“There you go!” Gavin beamed at him.

“What were you saying?” Lindsay asked.

“The wolf. It. I think it can heal it. When I change.”

“It hurts you too much. Let it heal on its own,” Gavin said gently. “It’s too dangerous. We can take care of it.”

“Take a nap or something, Jeremy,” Lindsay urged. “You’ve lost too much blood. We’ll take care of you.”

His arm burned and throbbed, but he was so tired now. He nodded.

But first… 

“Wait… the jewels?”

Gavin’s face brightened. “You got ‘em, Lil J, don’t worry. We got all of them!”

“Good. Didn’t wanna let you guys down.” With that, Jeremy let darkness wash over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stop by my tumblr rage-quitter!


	6. (Un)Rest In Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael's magic isn't as easy to control as he wishes it was. Sometimes he isn't sure he really controls it at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for extreme gore, murder, violence, blood, and throwing up. Happy Halloween!

Just an easy deal, wasn’t that what Geoff said when he sent them off on their own?

Sure. Michael and Gavin did shit like this all the time. Shouldn’t have been an issue at all. Michael, sneering and looking tough, and Gavin, smiling and glittering in his gold. They would go with the terms Lindsay and Geoff had planned out and deliver them to whoever they were dealing with. Gavin’s faerie Charm almost never failed to get them what they wanted. Michael’s fist convinced them if it did fail. 

Usually.

With Jeremy too, it should have been doubly easy. He was short, but with his sunglasses and arms that could crush a man’s skull, and the general vibe of “I could literally kill you with my bare hands” he could let off when he wanted to, his height didn’t matter at all. 

But they could not have predicted an ambush. Of all fucking things, an ambush. Michael got a bat to the back of the head before he could realize what was going on. He hardly got enough warning to shield himself from a concussion. 

When he woke up, his head hurt like a motherfucker. He would be fine, he knew; his magic jumped faster than he could control when he was under stress. At least this time it jumped to defense. 

He didn’t make a sound, didn’t lift his head. Instead, he listened. There was silence, save for his own breathing. Michael steadied his breath and kept his eyes closed. He let his mind wander for a few seconds, letting panicked thoughts flit around but not fixating on them. Then his thoughts began to clear away. He’d grown very good at meditating, though what he was going to do was not as easy.

With his mind as blank as it could be, Michael let it drift away. When thoughts plucked at his attention, he quickly switched to counting until it faded again. His consciousness expanded, moving out past his own mind. Slowly, his awareness spread throughout the room, marking large objects. Table in the corner, cabinet on the other wall. Door in front of him. Past that, in a growing circle. Hallway in front of him, a large room full of crates behind him that stretched left and right. 

To his right was another room, and the hallway had a cross section to his left. The layout seemed like some sort of hospital. Or prison. Hell, maybe a hotel. Something with lots of rooms. He felt two people in the room beside him.

The farther out he drifted, the less focused everything was. He didn’t have time to scan the whole building. He snapped back into his mind with a gasp. Jarring, every time. He took a moment to breath and settle back into his body. 

He wasn’t gagged, thank the gods. His hands were bound uncomfortably behind him, and his legs to the chair as well. He focused his magic, and spoke a few words. He was immensely glad for remembering to charge his crystal set in his necklace last night. The ropes fell away and he rubbed his wrists with a curse. He untied the bonds at his ankles and stood up. 

_ Okay, plan, Michael _ , he thought. Find Jeremy and Gavin. Get them free, make sure they’re fine. If they’re hurt, get the fuck out. If they’re not, and they’re pissed, destroy these fuckers. 

He shivered when he looked at the table he’d felt earlier. It was covered in weapons. Torture tools, he realized. Good thing he’d woken up before they could be used. He scanned over them and took a couple of knives and a hammer. As a second thought, grabbed a couple of thinner tools. Potential lockpicks.

Feeling more secure now that he was armed, Michael went for the door. It was locked, but required no key from this side. Slowly, he pulled it open and crept into the hallway.

It definitely seemed like a hotel, but left to rot for a while before being made into some hideout for this gang. There were sheets of metal and plywood nailed into parts of the walls and the floor, scattered pieces of rotting wood, parts of the ceiling missing. It smelled like mold and sawdust and gunpowder and marijuana. Michael gripped his knife tightly and focused on feeling invisible. 

Glamours were not easy to keep up, but powerful nonetheless. He focused as hard as he could while he sidestepped along the wall to the other door. He took a deep breath and gave a sharp rap on the door. He stepped to the side immediately, clutching his knife.

_ I’m invisible, you can’t see me, I am one with the wall,  _ he thought. 

He heard muffled voices and pressed against the wall. He prayed to all and any god listening that his glamour would hold. The door creaked open. 

The guy who came out was wearing a bandana around his face and holding a pistol. Michael hardly breathed, fingers sweaty on the handle of the knife. 

The guy looked directly at Michael. He blinked. Once, twice. His brow furrowed. His eyes slid past Michael, down the hall. 

“Yo, Johnny, you bangin’ on somethin’ down there?” he yelled.

There was no response.

“Go see what’s goin’ on,” another voice snapped from in the room. “I gotta get in touch with Truck. He ain’t pickin’ up his phone.”

The guy in the hallway sighed and walked past Michael, lowering his gun. Michael hesitated, but after a moment stalked after him, releasing a little of the invisibility glamour for muffled footsteps. He followed him a little down the hallway. 

As the guy passed Michael’s room, Michael jumped. He lept on the guy, stuffed his hand in his mouth, and stabbed him in the throat with the knife. The guy yelled out, but the sound was caught by Michael’s hand before choking into a gurgle. Hot blood spurted out, staining Michael’s hand. He jerked his wrist, tearing the blade through the soft flesh of his throat. Blood poured out down the guy’s torso as his struggling grew weaker.

Michael yanked the knife out and dragged the dying man into the room, leaving a trail of blood. He slumped the twitching body in the chair and watched passively as he died. Michael wiped the blade off on the guy’s pant leg and grabbed his gun as he walked out. He closed the door and, after taking a moment to breathe, refocused on his glamour and headed back to the other room.

He crept closer to the open door now and listened. 

The other guy was swearing softly at something. “Pick up, god dammit! Jesus!” There was some angry tapping. “Every other time I’m on the phone with him and he won’t shut the fuck up, and now he won’t answer at all!” He grunted in frustration. “Where the fuck did Mike go? Son of a bitch.”

Michael flattened himself on the wall when he heard the heavy footsteps. The guy barely took one step out before Michael was ducking under him and jamming he knife upwards into his throat. Not like the other guy; this time, Michael stabbed up into his mouth, his skull. He choked, blood dribbling from his lips, falling on Michael, who bared his teeth in a vicious sneer. He yanked the knife down, slicing his throat open vertically, scraping the blade on the man’s spinal column. Crimson poured out and the man collapsed, gurgling as he choked on his own blood before he could even bleed to death. The stench of metal was strong now.

Michael raided the room for anything useful. Not much; it seemed mostly unimportant, set up similar to the other room, with a couple of cots and dirty mattresses. He did find a cooler with mostly melted ice and water bottles and beer floating throughout. He chugged a bottle of each and shattered the beer bottle as another weapon. There was something satisfying about jamming a broken bottle in someone’s face. 

Dry mouth sated and bloodlust only beginning, Michael took a moment to summon his grimoire. A simple looking book with a dark red cover engraved with a black “M,” it contained his most important and favorite spells. The M matched the black tattoo on his chest that burned a little when he summoned it, a pain he was more than used to by now. 

Protection spells were easy enough. Fueled by rage and fear and charged with death, it should be pretty damn powerful. Michael flipped through until he found the one he was looking for. Letting the magical book float beside him, he coated his fingers in the warm blood oozing from the corpse and drew sigils on the wooden floor, chanting quietly. This was a more powerful spell than a simple incantation or pure force of will or even a sigil. Especially drawn in blood, Michael felt the energy of the magic like static in the air around him.

Before he completed the spell, he made sure to attach its power to Jeremy and Gavin, as well. It wouldn’t totally stop them from harm, but a protection spell, especially one this powerful, would lessen the effects of anything that would hurt them, would help prevent harm. It would keep them alive.

With the final drag of his bloody fingers, completing the sigils, they lit up for a just a fraction of a second, a bright flash of red. Michael’s grimoire snapped closed and vanished. Michael stood up, his hands stained red, magical energy coiled around him like a spring. He marched from the room. Fire flickered in his hair, on his knife, in his eyes. 

He was going to get his friends back. 

The hotel was twisting, turning, hallways blocked off by crates or plywood or caving holes in the ground. Michael listened at every door, kicked them open or meditated a moment to feel for any life inside. So far, there was not another soul on the floor Michael was on, when he reached the staircase. He didn’t see stairs going up, so he was probably on the top floor.

Only one way now.

Michael moved with purpose.

Unfortunately, so did the gang members, when they saw him. 

His flaming knife and barking curses threw them off, deflecting bullets and slamming gang members into walls before he bashed in their skulls with his stolen hammer. He was grappled by one guy, kicked him in the balls, and repeatedly stabbed him in the face with the beer bottle until his head was a bloody, screaming pulp. The final, vicious slam of the broken glass went through his face and he left him to bleed out on the floor. 

He must have killed twelve people before he kicked down a door to see a man slumped in a chair, tied tight, tape on his mouth. Gavin hummed frantically when he saw Michael, one lense of his golden glasses shattered. Michael darted forward and tore at the tape and rope with his knives. Gavin gasped out a breath for air and fell into Michael’s arms.

“Michael, Michael, my boi, oh, thank the gods, you’re all right,” Gavin murmured, clutching him tight and burying his nose in Michael’s collar. “You’re a bloody hero.”

Michael’s fingers were in a vice on Gavin’s shirt, holding him as close as possible. “Bloody, yeah,” he said weakly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Gavin said. “They tied me up too much for me to blink out and taped my mouth after I started to Charm one of ‘em. Not that they realized what the hell was going on, just that I was talking a lot and they didn’t like that very much.” He pulled back a bit to look Michael over. “Good Lord, look at you, you’re covered in blood!”

Michael shrugged. “Not my own, so who cares?” He sat back and flipped a knife in his hand, offering it handle-first. “Here, boi. There’s probably a bunch more in the hallway. We gotta get Lil J.”

Gavin nodded and accepted the knife. The weapon suited him better, Michael thought to himself. They helped each other stand and Gavin collected more weapons from the bodies of the gang members after an incredulous laugh at the number of corpses, some still twitching and whimpering. 

“Okay to split up?” Michael asked him.

Gavin nodded. “We’ll find him faster that way. Plus, now that we know we were ambushed, we’re on guard. We won’t be taken advantage of again.” He grinned brightly. “I’ll check the first floor, you keep looking up here, okay?”

“Sounds good, boi. Good luck. I’ll come down to meet you if I don’t find him.”

“You should probably come to me if you do, too,” Gavin said with a laugh. 

“All right, smart ass, fuck off,” Michael joked, elbowing him. 

Gavin pecked a kiss to his cheek before bounding off for the stairs. Michael shook his head fondly and stalked down the hallway. 

Michael kicked down door after door, flames flickering around him, magic sparking like invisible electricity. It seemed like there was no one else here. He searched thoroughly for the better part of an hour.

Frustrated and shoving down growing fear for Jeremy, Michael made for the stairs. He stepped over the bodies, boots splashing a little in pools of blood. 

Gavin blinked in front of him and the two crashed into each other. 

“Oh, fucking-- Gavin! What is it?” Michael shoved Gavin back, gripping his shoulders.

Gavin was babbling in tongues. Michael caught a few words: too many, guns, Jeremy, explosives. Michael hissed in a breath and slapped Gavin on the side of the head, jarring the faerie. 

“Gavin, English, what’s wrong?”

“The rest of them are coming, Michael, they’ve got Jeremy, he changed, he must’ve panicked, they got the wolf all tied up and they’re freaking out, he’s freaking out, we gotta save him!” Gavin’s fingers dug too tightly into Michael’s biceps. 

“Fuck,” Michael swore. “How many?”

“I don’t-- dozen? Two? Lots.”

“Oh, great, two men against twenty, easy,” Michael said more to himself. 

Footsteps began to rattle up the stairs. 

Michael backed up, shoving Gavin behind him. He held his pistol in front of him. “Gavin,” he whispered. “We gotta kill as many as possible.”

Gavin tackled Michael to the floor as a hail of bullets ripped apart the wall just above them. They crawled over the bodies into an open door and hunched down, ears ringing.

“Okay, new plan,” Michael hissed. “We get past them, get Jeremy, and get the fuck out.”

“Yeah, brilliant,” Gavin snapped, “just get past all the lunatic gang members with loads of guns!”

“You got a better idea?” Michael adjusted his grip on the pistol.

“No.”

“Back to square one, then.”

Gavin laughed breathlessly. “Geoff’s gonna be pissed.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Michael dared to peek out the door, but didn’t risk looking down the hall. He heard shouting, but it wasn’t English. Spanish? Russian? Fuck if he knew, he only spoke English and the unnamed, ancient, eternal language of witches that was vaguely like Latin. 

“Wait, wait,” Gavin said, grabbing Michael’s arm. “I can blink through them, get to Jeremy, or go invisible and sneak through. But they’re too alert, I think they’d notice me.”

“So you want a distraction.”

Gavin nodded. 

Michael swallowed. “Okay. Distraction duty, my favorite. Bust out the wolf and let it rip everyone to shreds. I hope it won’t attack me.”

“Jeremy would never!”

“That thing ain’t Jeremy, Gavin. It’s a whole other living thing. Another soul. And I don’t know how it feels about me.”

Gavin shuddered. “I won’t let Jeremy hurt you. He can’t turn me, or really hurt me that much, so I can keep you safe.”

“Okay. That works. Whatever. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. You free him, I’ll distract the gang.”

Gavin nodded. He looked focused, but Michael knew Gavin well. He was terrified under his facade. Gavin took a deep breath, and his form shimmered for a moment, like looking through rippling water. Michael knew that he was invisible to anyone not aware of him now.

Michael breathed to steady himself. With a loud shout he lept into the hallways, fired twice without bothering to aim, and rolled into the room across the hall as gunfire started up, along with a cacophony of foreign yelling. “Hey, motherfuckers!” he shouted. “What, scared? Go cry to mommy!”

He watched through the door as Gavin crept forward to peer out. A few of them looked towards him, but didn’t react besides with a double take and a frown of confusion. Gavin gave Michael a thumbs up and blinked out of sight. 

“You are outnumbered!” called an accented voice. Still no idea where the hell these people were from. “Come out!”

Michael scoffed. “Been there, done that,” he muttered. “Never stops.” Louder, he yelled, “Nah, I’m good in here, your decor is lovely!”

“We have your friends!”

“No, you don’t, dumbass, I just freed one.”

“The other one--” he stopped, interrupted by one of his goons. He snapped something back at them. “We have the other one. You can’t get to him. Tell Ramsey we won’t sit idly back while he takes over the city.”

“We’ve owned this city for years! You’re a fucking ant compared to the Fakes!” Michael laughed. “You should’ve been honored we’d even come discuss business with you!”

“And yet we captured all three of you.”

“Oh, yeah, good job, look how great that turned out for you.”

There was silence. 

“That’s fucking right, how many of you have I killed in the past hour? Fuck you.”

The man barked something. Michael tensed as he heard footsteps rushing toward him.

When the first guy entered the room, Michael blasted him with a wave of energy, throwing him into the wall with the force of a truck, crushing him. The second guy let off a shot a hair after Michael’s finger pulled the trigger. Michael’s aim was square for his head; the other guy’s bullet plunged into Michael’s thigh. He yelped in pain as agony burned through his leg and blood blossomed across his jeans. What clean spot was left, at least. He clutched a hand to it, cursing.

The man started yelling again, and Michael felt terror course through him at the sound of several footsteps and guns rattling. 

He couldn’t die like this.

His heart overpowered every other sound as he reached out with his magic, desperately grasping for any help at all. The wrath of God, a legion of demons, an army of ghostly ancestors, anything; he didn’t care at that point.

The word that choked out of his throat was unfamiliar. Its power tasted so awful on Michael’s tongue, and his mark burned worse than it ever had. His hands shook violently and he tasted blood on his tongue, hardly covering the taste of rot the word of power doused his throat with. Magic sizzled around him, but it wasn’t his usual magic. Energy flowed through him, terrible, strong energy. He felt like he was falling, that elated feeling of freedom with the fear of smashing into the ground into a puddle of gore. He jumped to his feet and clawed at his burning mark, pistol clattering to the ground. He stumbled into the hallway and fell to his knees, yelling. 

The men all stopped in shock, aiming at him, waiting for orders. 

They didn’t get the chance to hear before Michael’s eyes rolled back and blood dribbled from his mouth. Black smoke followed it, and leaked out from every crack in the walls. Michael’s bloody hand scrawled a shaky sigil into the ground. 

The men lowered their weapons in confusion, then fear, stepping back. Michael’s voice wasn’t his own, as incantations gurgled out around blood and smoke, his lips twisting into a vicious grin. 

A body on the ground twitched.

Then another. 

The smoke swirled, hugged the ground, smelled terribly of rotten eggs; of sulfur. 

With a hoarse snarl, one of the corpses jerked forward and latched onto the leg of one of the men.

Hell broke loose.

The bodies rose up from the ground, dripping blood, smoke in their eyes and pouring from their gaping mouths, hands turned into reaching claws. The gang members shrieked and fired and stabbed, but the bodies did not back down, crowding closer.

Michael stood up, twitching violently, practically seizing, still chanting. He burned inside, terror his only feeling as his magic took over entirely, controlling the living dead. 

Michael could only watch through the fire of his own magic as the undead tore into the gang, ripped them apart, spilling guts and blood all over the floor. It was visceral, bloody, and their screams echoed in his head. 

The head gang member fired his shotgun point blank into one of his former friend’s chests. The monster only stumbled before lurching forward and plunging its teeth into his throat. It felt like a horror film as the undead creature ripped the gang leader’s throat out with its teeth. He gurgled a scream and fell limp.

The zombies shuffled for a few moments in the sudden quiet. The only noises were squishy gore and dripping blood, the occasional grunt or groan from them. 

Without warning, Gavin came charging up the stairs, chased by a huge wolf. He skidded to a stop with a shout of alarm and the wolf crashed into him from behind, nearly bowling the skinny faerie over. 

The zombies slowly turned their heads towards the two.

Michael snapped. He jerked his head forward and barked a single word, stopping the monsters in their tracks. 

He still heard screams echoing in his head. The look of sheer, utter terror on Gavin’s face shook him. The smoke began to subside. Michael felt the magic sapping away.

He summoned what he could and channeled it into the zombies. Return to the veil, he told them, wait for the carriage. Leave their bodies, return to dust. The smoke swirled out of the zombies at his ancient words, as though being sucked into the cracks in the walls and into the floor. The smell of sulfur and unnatural decay faded with it. 

The bodies slowly crumpled to the ground as the magic left them. Their eyes were burned out of their heads. 

Once the last zombie collapsed and the rest of the smoke dissipated, Michael followed the monsters to his knees. He panted for a moment, tasting blood in his mouth, then bile in his throat. He crawled toward the wall and punched it violently before throwing up. 

His throat burned, but it wasn’t a magical pain. It was raw, acidic, post-vomit burn, and almost reassuring. He panted over the pile of his half-digested food, dripping gross saliva tinged with pink, shaking. 

His leg began to hurt again. 

Michael looked up at Gavin. He was staring, face unreadable. The wolf stood behind him, ears flat, hackles raised, tail between its legs, fear evident on its face. It was a terrifying beast. This was the first time Michael had ever seen Jeremy’s wolf form.

“G-Gavin,” Michael croaked. “You found him.”

With that, Michael fell to the side and blacked out.

When he came to, his leg was completely numb and he ached everywhere. He wanted to go back to sleep. His mark felt sore on his chest. He reached up with a groan to palm at it, frowning when he realized he wasn’t wearing his binder or his jacket, just a t-shirt. 

Michael blinked his eyes open and grunted at the light.

“Michael?”

“Nn… Jack?” He squinted.

A pair of hands touched his, pulling them away from his face. The same hands then carefully set something on his face; his glasses. He blinked at a worried face.

“Hi, Jack,” he managed. His throat hurt something awful. He was in his apartment, in his bed.

“Morning, Michael. How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Like absolute shit,” he answered. “Like I’ve been shot, thrown up, and raised the fucking dead.”

Jack looked concerned. “Gavin told us. He’s… really shaken up. He didn’t know you could do that. None of us did.”

“I didn’t know I could,” Michael confessed. He gratefully accepted the glass of water Jack handed him and chugged it down. “I thought I was gonna die. I got shot. There were too many of them, and I couldn’t fight them off, and it scared me. I don’t… I don’t know, Jack.” He started to shake again, gripping the glass too tightly. “It just… took over me. I didn’t do it. It was the magic, not me, I didn’t… mean to raise the dead, gods above, I’m-- I’m a monster--”

Jack shushed him and ran her fingers through his hair and wiped away his tears. “Michael, calm down, honey. It’s okay, it’s okay.”

He sniffled miserably and choked a little. “I didn’t mean to do it, Jack,” he whispered brokenly. “It wasn’t supposed to happen. It just… it was like… something Ray would do. It smelled like sulfur, and there was black smoke and I was burning, but I couldn’t do anything except watch. They tore them apart.”

Jack set his glass on the table and took Michael’s hands in hers. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “It sounds like it was horrible. I can’t imagine how bad it must have been. But you were scared and your magic did what it had to do. It was protecting you. You didn’t do anything wrong, Michael.”

“I… I read about it before. In my books. Necromancy. Every witch who has done it has been corrupted by it. Twisted into horrible monsters. I don’t--” he hiccuped. “I don't want it to happen to me, Jack, I don’t want it. I didn’t mean--”

Jack wrapped an arm around him and kissed his temple. “I know, I know. Shhh. We won’t let that happen, Michael. You’re safe. We’ll make sure it won’t happen to you.” 

He leaned into her, feeling her warmth, her heartbeat. Jack smelled nice, soft and floral. He didn’t say anything else, and neither did she. She held him until he was lulled into sleep again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come stop by my tumblr, rage-quitter!


	7. Escape Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a pinch, Gavin can get them out of a fight. But out of the frying pan... and into what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> faerie shenanigans!

Jeremy felt weirdly comfortable with the Fake AH Crew.

Since Geoff picked him up and Jeremy had heard unending stray puppy jokes, the Fakes were cautious at first, except for Gavin. Within three days they collectively stopped giving a fuck and began involving him in planning sessions, game and movie nights, and their absolutely ridiculous jokes. They worked together, not like a well-oiled machine, but like a family that found itself. 

Joining a gang was never a thought that had crossed Jeremy’s mind in his life, but neither had becoming a werewolf. They were all surprisingly kind, for criminals and monsters, and made him feel… welcome. They made him feel like less of a freak, and not just for the werewolfism. The minute he walked in and saw Michael sitting on the coffee table in jeans and a binder like it was any old tank top cursing at whatever game he was playing, he felt a sense of camaraderie he’d never felt before. 

He’d been going through rigorous training since joining the Fakes, both physical and mental. Between learning about what it was like to be a criminal, to getting in tune with the wolf, to practicing the physical demands of everyday crew life. 

Even still, they hadn’t let him on an official mission yet. Too dangerous. 

Until one day, two weeks into Jeremy’s second month, when Ryan and Michael were out on a mission together--something destructive, probably--and Gavin had an emergency meeting. Geoff couldn’t go, in the middle of the day, and Jack wasn’t the best with Gavin’s meetings. 

“Jeremy can come with me!” Gavin chirped. 

Jeremy jumped as Gavin dropped a careless arm over his shoulders. “Me?”

“Sure! You’re all meaty and buff, you’d be just as scary as Ryan. Plus all that Boston rage,” Gavin teased.

“I’m not-- Gavin, I can’t--” Jeremy couldn’t find words to convey his alarm at the potential disaster this could be. 

Geoff rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Fuckin’... Jesus, you’re annoying, Gavin. Look, Jeremy, just go with him, okay? Just like, stand behind him, look kind of menacing, but not too menacing, listen to Gavin, and then both of you come home.”

Gavin yanked Jeremy into a side hug with surprising strength and saluted Geoff with his other hand. Jack was already holding her face in her hands. 

“We’ll be super careful!” Gavin promised. “It’s mostly just for introductions and planning a serious meeting for you later, you know.”

“Still,” Jack cautioned them. “Stay together, and stay safe.”

“We will!”

Jeremy followed Gavin around while he collected things they’d need-- “recording bugs, bulletproof vests for under our jackets, extra ammo, couple of knives, ooh, here, you’d look super cool with Michael’s brass knuckles, I think they’re magic too!” --and then down the elevator. Gavin briefed him on the meeting on the way.

“Okay, it’s not a huge deal, we’re mostly making pleasantries and making them know that we can be really nice if they are, but if they’re not, we can destroy them. Geoff’s given me a couple dates that he and I and Ryan can meet with them for official deals, so this is more planning for plans. Shouldn’t be terribly long. Maybe we can get ice cream or something afterwards!” Gavin bounced on the balls of his feet, looking childishly excited. 

“What am I supposed to do?” Jeremy asked.

“Stand a little behind me, look all tough, but not threatening.”

Jeremy fidgeted. “I don’t know, Gav…”

“Look, I know you’re basically a cute little puppy,” Gavin teased, ignoring his sputtering and blushing, “but you’re also a big scary wolf! Literally, actually, sometimes.”

“I mean. I guess... I’ll try, though.”

“I believe in you, Li’l J!” Gavin nudged him with his elbow and gave him a smile. 

Of course, the pair took a motorcycle. Gavin pointed down streets for Jeremy to take. Jeremy drove with caution, much to Gavin’s evident annoyance. He paid little mind to the faerie’s grumping at his law abiding. 

The meeting place was a fairly decent motel, a room booked for them to meet privately in a neutral place. Jeremy parked and let Gavin take the lead. 

Gavin walked like he owned the world. The confidence in every cell of his body both inspired Jeremy and freaked him out a little. It wasn’t an arrogant swagger; it was the stance of the only predator in a forest of injured rabbits.

Jeremy felt the wolf’s agitation and excitement. It didn’t really understand the whole “criminal” thing, having no sense of morality quite like Jeremy did, but it understood his excitement at this first job to prove his worth to his new pack and it was surprisingly eager to help out. He took a deep breath in and the wolf’s determination and might stilled his nervous fingers and steadied his breath. He squared his shoulders and fell into step beside Gavin.

Gavin greeted the other gang’s negotiating guy in warm Italian. His bodyguard was taller than Jeremy, a gruff looking woman rolling a mint behind burgundy lips. She eyed Jeremy, and he looked back, hoping his eyes didn’t expose the panic in his mind. After a moment, she gave a brief nod and relaxed a bit. Jeremy furrowed his brow  a bit and looked to Gavin. 

The two men seemed to be getting along all right. Jeremy didn’t understand a fucking word, but kept his expression a cautious resting bitch face. Gavin turned to Jeremy with a smile. 

“We’ll go inside, discuss details, and then be on our separate ways,” he explained. 

Jeremy nodded and followed after Gavin inside. He did an automatic scan of the motel room. It was empty aside from the two people, a pretty standard motel room, aside from the couple of chairs rearranged to face each other. 

Gavin took one chair, while the other gang’s dude took the other, and started talking in Italian again. Jeremy, annoyed at the language barrier, kept to eyeing the room, and listening with his inhumanly keen ears for any sounds outside. 

The woman seemed to be doing as much as well, and looked a little impatient. Jeremy heard her mint tap against her teeth and her weight shift. 

Finally the two men sounded like they were wrapping it up. Jeremy let his attention shift back to them as they shook hands with friendly smiles and nods. 

They stood and turned to their respective muscle. “Everything’s all worked out!” Gavin chirped. “They’re leaving first, so as not to arouse suspicion.” He said it with a bit of an exaggeration for emphasis, making Jeremy crack a smile. “We’ll leave a few minutes later.”

The woman approached Jeremy. She was a little taller than he was, but not quite as broad. Were he human, they could be evenly matched. She held out her hand to him.

He hesitated only a moment before accepting her handshake. 

The other two gang members left together.

“You did good, Li’l J!” Gavin exclaimed, giving him another hug. 

“I don’t feel like I did anything,” Jeremy said. 

“Nah, you did exactly what you were supposed to do. Look tough but not too tough. Plus the handshake thing? She respects you, that’s always really good, and good for business.” Gavin started shoving the chairs back into place.

Jeremy helped him. “That’s good, then, I guess. Glad to have helped.”

“I’m really happy you’re here, Jeremy,” Gavin told him. There was unexpected earnesty in his voice. “You’re a great addition to the Crew, and I know that it can be pretty scary and shit, but I think you’re lovely and you’re gonna do great.”

“Thanks, Gav.” Jeremy gave him a smile. “It’s still, yeah, pretty new and shit, but I’m kind of really excited. And you guys are all super awesome, I wouldn’t wanna be a criminal or a werewolf with anyone else!”

“Aw, Jeremy, you’re lovely, Jeremy.” Gavin beamed at him. “We should definitely get some ice cream and bevs before going back.”

“Oh, absolutely. Team Little Britain!”

Gavin giggled.

When Gavin decided it was safe for them to head out, they opened the door.

Waiting for them was the barrel of a gun.

Jeremy went for his own gun, but a gruff “Don’t move” stopped him.

There were several men outside, all in black and more well armed than Jeremy and Gavin. Gavin’s face was cool, even with a gun an inch from his forehead. Jeremy remembered reading about faeries being able to hide their true feelings supernaturally well; there was no way to tell how Gavin was actually reacting to this. 

The man with the gun in front peered around Gavin and Jeremy into the room. “Shit, we missed the other two,” he said. He gestured, and a few of his men moved past him into the room to surround them. 

“Who are you?” Gavin asked.

“None of your business,” barked the man. “Back up.”

Slowly, they stepped back. 

Gavin cast a glance to Jeremy and twitched his hand. A small flower petal appeared between his fingers and vanished just as fast. Jeremy wracked his mind for a moment, before realizing it was symbolic; Gavin had a plan to bust them out. Distraction, and then poof. 

“What do you want?” Gavin asked.

“What  _ do  _ we want?” said the man. “All number of things. Ransom, information, revenge, leverage? What can we get from two lone members of the Fakes, outnumbered and outgunned? Sit down.”

Slowly, the two sat in the chairs they’d just moved. 

The man took out a radio and started speaking into it in some foreign language that Jeremy didn’t know. 

The rest of the men stared silently, their guns aimed. 

Jeremy stared at Gavin, waiting for any hint, and help. Gavin gave a tiny shake of his head. Jeremy kept down a growl. He’d just have to wait and trust him.

That didn’t mean the wolf wanted to. Jeremy dug his nails into the meat of his hands to steady their shake as the wolf snarled behind his eyes. The wolf could, probably, handle all of these fuckers; they didn’t have silver, their bullets would be no worse than a papercut to him. But then again, even a  lot of bullets would not be good for him and worse for Gavin.

His nails dug deep into the fabric, the wolf aching in his bones and burning his blood. He held it down though.

Gavin noticed, as he usually did, and gave him a tiny smile. 

Nothing happened for what was probably nearly a full minute. The tension in the air was practically visible. It looked kind of like smoke.

And smelled like smoke too. 

No, wait.

Jeremy gave a look toward Gavin. Gavin twitched an eyebrow at him and the corner of his mouth gave the tiniest tick upwards. 

Some other dude came running inside. “Sir, they’ve already called the fire department, we need to evacuate immediately--”

“Get them out of here,” ordered the man. “We need to go, now.”

Suddenly one of the men started screaming. Another man just after began to freak out too, and Jeremy turned to see rats crawling out of a vent into the room, clamoring over the men’s shoes and scurrying up their pant legs. 

Chaos erupted with the stream of rats and the alarming smell of smoke and sirens beginning to wail in the distance. The men were running in panic, trying to kick off the rats, coughing in the smoke. 

Jeremy slid the brass knuckles on his hands and launched himself out of his seat with werewolf strength and speed. He clocked one guy in the face, hearing a crunch and a shriek and smelling blood. 

“Give ‘em hell, Jeremy! I’ll work on getting us outta here!” Gavin exclaimed. The smell of rain and magic and musty leaves and flowers met Jeremy’s nose; Gavin was doing some more powerful magic than his usual, more passive faerie stuff.

Some other guy tried to tackle Jeremy, but severely underestimated his strength for his height. Jeremy grappled with the man for a moment, trying to get his gun away, and ignoring the tiny claws that ran over his foot. 

With a snarl, he yanked the gun from the man with an easy tug and as he watched in shock, Jeremy bent the barrel in his bare hands. He threw it to the ground and let out a canine growl, far less human than any sound a man could make. The man skittered back and bolted for the door.

A couple of shots rang out, and Jeremy jerked with a curse as he felt a bullet graze his shoulder.

“Jeremy, here!” Gavin reached out a hand. Jeremy lept forward and grabbed him. 

The smell of nature and magic was overpowering for a moment, and Jeremy felt dizzy and nauseas like he was spinning very very fast. The room blurred around them, spiraling into streaks of color that were twisting and warping. Jeremy couldn’t move. Gavin looked calm, but as Jeremy stared at him, his humanoid glamour faded. He was almost painful to look at, and Jeremy’s brain couldn’t make total sense of him. 

When the spinning slowed to a stop and Gavin released Jeremy, reality snapped back. Jeremy took a step back and reached for his head with a groan. He squeezed his eyes closed to dispel the dizziness and swallowed the nausea. 

“Sorry about that,” Gavin apologized. Even his voice sounded a little different. Less directional, and a bit like it was coming from everywhere, or maybe just in Jeremy’s head. “The first time crossing the barrier like that is hard. It would’ve been easier in a circle or a rift instead of me having to rip through and drag you here.”

“What the fuck?” Jeremy lowered his hands and opened his eyes.

The pair of them were standing in a forest. The trees were enormous and ancient, covered in moss and vines. Warm yellow sunlight streaked down through breaks in the branches, slanted heavily from sunset. Dust motes and tiny insects danced lazily in the pools of light. Birds chirped and sang in the tree tops. The whole place smelled of rich nature and magic. The very air, for as warm and lazy as it was, felt staticky and charged.

“Where are we?”

“Faerieland,” Gavin explained. “In the realm of the Seelie court, mind you, so there’s no need to worry. I just ripped a hole for us to jump through so we could escape easily. I figured it would be easier than trying to fight our way through without backup.”

Jeremy looked up. “This is the faerie realm?”

“Yep. It’s nothing really special, lots of forests and shit, mostly. It’s peaceful, but not really safe unless you’re from here or have a good guide. Fortunately for us, we’re both.”

“Wow,” Jeremy said. “It’s… really beautiful.”

Gavin shrugged. “Way better than being in a stinky city surrounded by stone and glass all the time. This is nothing compared to the Court, though. Our cities are absolutely beautiful.”

“Can I see?” Jeremy asked, excited.

Gavin shook his head quickly, alarm on his face. “No, not now. It’s not safe to just waltz around willy-nilly, and especially not without knowing what to do. I don’t want you getting stuck here forever and indebted to some other faerie asshole because you ate a bloody grape or something stupid.” He held out a hand. “Keep close to me. It’s very easy to get lost unless you’re from here.”

Jeremy let his hand fall in Gavin’s. Gavin’s hand was comfortably cool, the rings on his fingers chilly against Jeremy’s always too-warm skin. 

“Don’t wander off. And for the love of all that’s good in any of the realms, if we meet another faerie, do not say a word and do not take a thing they offer you.” Gavin looked at him intensely, dropping his sunglasses down his nose to glare at him. Gavin’s eyes were enrapturing. Jeremy nodded.

Gavin started walking, and Jeremy tottered along after him. Gavin’s footsteps were silent, and it took Jeremy a moment to realize it was because his feet weren’t actually touching the ground. He was hovering an inch above the grass, despite looking for all the world otherwise like he was walking as normal.

The shadows between sunbeams were cool compared the drowsy warmth of the light. The tree trunks were huge, some as big around as he was tall, and stretched impossibly high up. They seemed to stretch on for miles.

After a few minutes of walking, there was the sound of water. Jeremy craned his neck around the giant trees and saw a stream ahead, winding lazily from an unknown source, babbling gently over smooth stones. A few deer were collected around it, heads dipped down to drink the clear water. The wolf perked up at the sight of prey.

Gavin slowed down as they walked near the stream. Jeremy kept his footsteps light, not wanting to scare off the beautiful, delicate creatures. The white markings on a fawn with the small herd seemed to shimmer like snow.

The deer lifted their heads to watch them walk by. Gavin stopped and gave a bow to the animals with a few words in the faerie tongue. The deer blinked their large dark eyes at him. Collectively, they turned their faces, looking in one direction for a moment, before looking back. Gavin spoke again and began to walk.

“What was that?” Jeremy asked in a low voice.

“Asked directions,” Gavin said. “Looking for the nearest rift.”

“Directions from animals?”

“The animals in Faerieland are intelligent. They don’t understand human language, though, and only listen when treated with respect. Few of them can actually speak, though.”

“What kind of animals live here?”

“Lots of deer, rabbits, birds, typical forest creatures. Some regions have more exotic animals. There are also bears and wolves, predators, y’know. If you know where to look, you can find magic creatures. Blink dogs and unicorns and plant creatures, and some… some less friendly beings. You don’t want to run into shadow wolves and wil-o-wisps here.” Gavin tightened his grip a bit. “They can be quite nasty.”

“Unicorns… really?”

“Yep. Right sticks-in-the-mud, but they’re pretty, and kind. They don’t like humans too much, since that lot tends to be pretty destructive and unicorns are protectors and all that.” He shook his head. “I’ve met a few. One of them even talked a bit. She gave me a hair for a spell Michael needed a few years ago.”

“Wow. I didn’t think they were real.”

“I’m sure you thought that about werewolves last year, too.”

Jeremy laughed. “Good point. Man, I can’t believe you’ve met a fucking unicorn, that’s incredible.”

Gavin shrugged. “Faerie beings are strange. And that’s coming from a faerie. Humans have romanticized the hell out of us. We’re dangerous.”

“Well, humans are too.”

Gavin’s laugh was a little bitter. The air seemed to dull, a chill sent down Jeremy’s spine, with the sound. “Yeah, you’re not wrong. But I don’t think you realize, Jeremy, everything about us, about this world, is to entice and tempt and then destroy. It’s beautiful, so much that you don’t want to leave. The food is so delicious, you could eat it forever. The faeries are so charming, you’ll believe every word we say. The satyrs play such fine music you could dance for years. We don’t have morals like humans do. We don’t play by your rules. We don’t kill immediately, like a vampire or a werewolf, and not for food. We don’t enslave in the same way as a dragon or a giant. We take what we want, when we want, and when we lose interest, dump it with no regard. We live outside of time itself. We’re frivolous and powerful and selfish.”

Jeremy stared at Gavin and felt, for the first time since meeting him, genuine fear.

Gavin sighed. “I’m sorry. I…” He shook his head. “I’ve been betrayed by my own kind before. I know too well what faeries are like, and we hold grudges for far too long. As long as you trust me, you’ll be safe.”

Jeremy stayed silent.

Gavin opened his mouth again, but then closed it. He kept walking.

The forest didn’t seem so nice now. The wolf kept alert. Gavin’s hand was still cold. 

Jeremy had no idea how long they walked. The sun didn’t move at all. He suspected now that it wouldn’t move. The awe and novelty was fading with the seed of unease sprouting in his gut. Everything looked identical. Jeremy was usually pretty good at tracing his steps (or at least, the wolf was) but he was sure he would not be able to tell where they had come. 

Jeremy heard an odd noise just as Gavin suddenly darted to the side, yanking Jeremy with him. He cursed as his toe caught on a root. Gavin held a hand to his mouth and shoved him against the tree. Gavin flattened himself to the bark beside him.

“Don’t move,” Gavin breathed.

Gavin’s form wavered, turning a little translucent, like looking at a reflection on water. Jeremy pressed himself as much as he could into the tree, hardly daring to breathe, and listened.

The sounds were… strange. There was creaking, like wood bending, and slow heavy stomps. Like one of these trees was walking around. Gavin was very, very still.

There was a rustling, and then sniffing, like an animal. The animal noise crept closer, and Gavin’s fingers were in a vice around Jeremy’s hand. 

The animal sounds retreated.

Gavin relaxed ever so slightly.

Jeremy didn’t know how long they stood there, waiting for the noises to go away. It felt like forever. Eventually, the animal rustling and the creaking stomping faded away.

Gavin’s form returned and he slumped forward in relief. “Oh, thank the gods.”

“What the fuck was that?”

“There’s not really a word in English for it. Tree monster, basically, with their hunting dogs. They’re shadow wolves, really, not dog, though. Think about like an ugly ogre but made of wood and leaves, that’s what those monsters look like, and their shadow wolves are vicious,” Gavin explained. “We’re lucky they didn’t catch us.”

“Okay, I really want to go home now.”

Gavin nodded. “Yeah, we’re getting close.”

“Why can’t you like, do what you did earlier? Rip a hole?”

“Not safe. Jumping through myself is very easy, since I’m fae, but bringing you can weaken the fabric of spacetime and risk opening another rift. Uncontrolled openings are a threat to both realms. That’s why rings are faerie controlled and tiny, and rifts are guarded in both realms by fae and other beings.” Gavin moved slowly, walking in a curve to give the tree monster’s path a wide berth. “Circles are one way trips for humans unless we bring them back and don’t last for too long. There’s a fairly good size rift nearby, and I know where the other side is, so we’ll use that.”

“How long have we been here?” 

Gavin looked as though he hadn’t considered that. “I have no idea. Hopefully not long. I’ll ask the guardians when we reach the rift when we should jump through for the shortest time.”

“The what who?”

“Guardians, they protect the rift on both sides.”

“I guessed that. Everything you said made sense except in a sentence in that order. Shortest time?”

Gavin sighed. “Faerieland exists outside of time. That’s why the sun never sets, even if we might’ve been walking for hours. Depending on when you jump through, you could be gone for two minutes or two years. Faeries can usually control our jumps, but with the rifts or with rings, those larger jumps, especially with humans, it can be more unpredictable. The guardians are very in tune with the fabric of spacetime and they can help.”

“This is way more complex than I thought.”

Gavin laughed. “Yeah, it’s really weird. Coming here with Michael is a pain in the ass.”

“Michael’s been here?”

“Yep.” Gavin nodded. “He’s visited the Court. He knew what he was doing, though, and came prepared, and with me. There wasn’t much of a risk for him, with that sort of thing, but.” He glanced in the direction the tree monster had gone. “That doesn’t mean there aren’t other threats.”

“I really, really want to go home.”

Gavin squeezed Jeremy’s hand. “We’re almost there.”

After some other indeterminate amount of time, Jeremy saw the light dappling off water ahead through the trees. It looked like a pond or something. As they got closer, he saw a small cottage built by the pond’s shore.

“There it is,” Gavin said. 

“The… the house?”

“The pond. That’s the rift.”

Without waiting for Jeremy to respond, Gavin hurried forward, dragging Jeremy with him. 

Gavin had hardly raised a hand to knock when the door opened. A man in strange clothes with a bow and quiver of arrows appeared. Looking at him was like looking at Gavin; he was beautiful but unfathomable. 

The man said something in the faerie tongue, sounding surprised. Gavin answered cheerfully. Jeremy stood dumbly. The strange faerie laughed at whatever Gavin said, and Jeremy felt a little dizzy at the sound.

“Gotten yeselves in a li’l mess, ‘ave ye?” said the faerie in English. “Been a while, there, Gav, lad.”

“Yeah, I know. We’ve been pretty busy lately, I haven’t been able to visit much,” Gavin replied. 

“Ah, take yer time, we’ll all be here,” laughed the faerie. “Headin’ back to the mortal world, then?”

“Yessir, thank you,” said Gavin. “When should we go through? I’d like for us to be gone for as little time as possible.”

The faerie nodded. “Follow me.”

Gavin kept a tight grip on Jeremy’s hand and kept a step in front of him. The faerie guardian led them to the edge of the pond. He stared into the water for a few seconds. “Should be good to go in a minute or so, I think. You’ll be gone ‘ardly an hour!”

“Thank you very much. I’ll be sure to tell Michael hello for you,” Gavin said.

“Aye, he’s a good lad, I miss that firecracker of a witch!” He tapped Gavin on the shoulder. “Go on through now.”

“Come on, Li’l J,” Gavin chirped.

Jeremy really didn’t want to walk into a pond, but Gavin was already walking forward. The water was cool and clear and little fish darted around his ankles. He grimaced as his clothes grew soaked as he and Gavin waded into the water.

“What are we--”

“Hold your breath,” Gavin said. 

Jeremy took a deep breath just in time. The floor vanished from underneath him and he plummeted into water far deeper than the pond looked. The water didn’t even sting his eyes. He was falling fast, faster, too fast for him to be underwater. Gavin looked calm in their freefall, still clinging to Jeremy’s hand, gravity ruffling his hair and his clothes. 

Just as suddenly as the ground was gone, it was back, and jarringly dry and solid. Jeremy stumbled, only staying upright from Gavin’s strong grip. He gasped out and breathed in air that was dry and plain and a little dusty.

Gavin smiled at him, looking less ethereal now. “There we are, love,” he said. He let go of Jeremy’s hand and brushed off his shirt. “Home, sweet home.”

“Holy fuck,” Jeremy cursed. “We’re back?”

Gavin nodded. He pointed to a dry riverbed by their feet. “The rift is right in the middle there. We’re in the mortal world again.”

Jeremy looked down at his feet to see his clothes perfectly dry. 

“Jeremy,” Gavin said suddenly. He took off his glasses and peered at Jeremy. “What do you remember?”

“Huh? About?”

“About… anything that just happened.”

“Like, walking around the faerieland for God knows how long?”

Gavin looked surprised. He set his sunglasses back on his face. “Huh. Okay.”

“Why?”

“Odd. Humans don’t often remember the faerieland when they come back.”

“Well, I’m not really human, am I?”

Gavin laughed. “That’s true! How weird! I don’t know of many werewolves who have visited the faerieland! I didn’t know if the memory thing would affect you the same way.”

“Guess not. Uh, where the fuck are we now?”

Gavin looked up. “The forest. The road’s not terribly far, actually. We can probably jack a car and head home.”

“Good.” The two started walking. “I’m hungry as shit.”

“Weren’t we gonna get ice cream?”

“We were absolutely gonna get ice cream.” Jeremy gave a laugh, but the sound was distracted. “Gav… you were saying… how dangerous it is there.”

Gavin’s face was unreadable when he nodded.

“And how your kind, the fae, they’re tricky and not really… nice. Why do you help the crew like you do? Why did you help me when we were in there, instead of tricking me into staying forever or whatever?”

“I wasn’t… always aware that I was a faerie,” Gavin told him. “When I was little, a baby, my mother, my faerie mother, switched me for a human child and left me in the mortal world. I was raised as a human for years, aware only that I was strange. 

“I came to the realization that I was, am, a changeling, finally. And I felt betrayed. I could have been raised happily in the faerieland, as light and free and careless as any other faerie, but I faced hardships and pain and for years the burden of my false humanity was heavy, until the moment I stepped through into the faerieland. But I didn’t belong there, and I don’t belong here. 

“I may not have those human feelings anymore, but I remember them. I respect them. And that betrayal of my family, of the Court, well… I don’t want to stay long there. They do not realize what changelings go through. We’re not meant for human emotion. Most changelings can’t stay in the faerieland for long, nor the mortal realm, because we just don’t fit in either place.

“I’m with the crew because they gave me a home, a real one, when I didn’t have one. I might not have human feelings, but I still feel love, and I love all of the crew. We’re family. A little misfit bunch who made something out of nothing, a family out of rejects and monsters.”

“Wow, Gav,” Jeremy said softly. “I… I’m sorry to hear about that. The whole like… yeah, you know. But man.” He reached out to give Gavin a one armed hug as they walked. 

“You’re a member of our family  now, Li’l J, you know?” Gavin smiled down at him. “We all care about you a whole lot. Even Rye-bread, even though he’s a stupid sausage who tries to act all tough and shit.”

Jeremy laughed. “Thanks, Gavvy. I’m… I’m happy, actually, with the crew. It’s still really new and I’ve got a way to go, but I’m happy.”

“Good!” Gavin startled him with a sudden kiss on the top of his head. “You’ll be even happier when I buy you ice cream. Let’s go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is rage-quitter, come drop by!


	8. Do it for the Vine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plant mom Jack to the rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wish i could think of more creative ideas for nymph Jack

Jack was getting uneasy. It wasn’t supposed to be a hard job. Jeremy had shown off a couple of skills, and Geoff thought a good test might be to have him sneak into the house of a shitty lawyer trying to collect information about the crew and fuck with him. Nothing bad, just mess up his home and leave a warning. They’d made sure the lawyer was out, that the house was empty.

So what the hell was taking Jeremy so long?

Jack slipped off the getaway bike and made her way through the alleys to the house. It was posh and stupidly fancy, because how else would one with copious amounts of money live? From the outside, Jack saw no sight of Jeremy. 

She headed around the back, to the window she knew Jeremy would have slipped in through. Matt’s EMP should have completely disabled the security system, so that couldn’t be the problem. 

As carefully and quietly as she could, Jack climbed in the open window. The screen was already sliced through from Jeremy’s entrance. When she got to her feet in the kitchen, she pulled her pistol from the holster at her waist and clicked the safety off. 

She paused a moment to listen. All was silent, and the lights were off. She didn’t dare call out for Jeremy, just in case. She’d been in this business too long to make such a stupid mistake. Instead, she moved for the door to the other room, her footsteps nearly silent despite her boots. 

Before she stepped through, she focused for a moment. She felt a little relief when there were a few, albeit not very well cared for, plants scattered through the house. A spider plant upstairs, a ficus in the next room, a cactus somewhere else upstairs. She felt her mind connect with their energy briefly and let a little life flow into each to perk them up. She may need them.

Reassured, Jack stepped into the next room, a dining room open to the living room area. It was devoid of any life beside the ficus. She cast a cursory look around, taking inventory instinctively. Furniture placement, potential weapons, places to hide. 

With caution Jack explored the lower floor of the house to find it empty of anyone except for a sad looking fish in a fancy but probably not optimal tank. She stood at the base of the stairs for a moment, assessing her options, before creeping up.

The first room, what looked like a guest room, was empty. So was the second guest room and the bathroom. She paused at the door of what was probably the master. There were sounds.

There weren’t voices, but she heard heavy breathing of at least two people. She couldn’t be sure, but one sounded like Jeremy and the other sounded female.

Jack steeled herself and, gripping her pistol, threw open the door.

Jeremy was crouched against a wall, holding a gun one handed with the other hand shoved in the bullet graze in his thigh. A woman in satin lingerie and a bathrobe was on the bed, holding her own gun aimed right back at him, in clear terror.

“Jack!” Jeremy exclaimed in shock. The woman let out a scream. 

Jack spotted the spider plant by the bed and flooded it with energy. The plant burst into life, growing in super speed and latching to Jack’s sapience. It wrapped around the woman’s arm and yanked the gun and another scream from her. The gun clattered to the floor.

Flowers blossomed through Jack’s hair with her unbridled energy. She reached out a hand to Jeremy. Jeremy grabbed it and she hauled him to his feet. 

The woman was sobbing hysterically now, the plant crawling over her. Jack hushed the plant, urging it to retreat. It agreed and went slack and crept back to its pot. The woman shoved away from it, tears streaking down her face.

“We need to leave,” Jack growled to Jeremy. 

He nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

Jack made Jeremy go first. She cast a pitying look at the lawyer’s panicking mistress before following Jeremy out. They hurried down the stairs and to the kitchen.

Jack smacked him on the back of the head, making him jump and swear. “Ow! What the fuck?”

“What happened?” She hissed.

“I didn’t expect there to be someone here! I was looking for the master bedroom to start leaving messages and shit, like we were gonna, but she was sitting in there reading and scared the piss out of me. She got scared too and shot me.”

Jack sighed and shoved Jeremy toward the window. “Get out, I’ll start on your leg until we can get you somewhere safer.”

Jeremy, to his credit, didn’t complain as he wriggled out the window. Jack went after him.

“Hold still,” she said as she crouched beside him. She examined the wound. It was bloody, but not deep or particularly bad. He would be fine, and it might not even scar, especially not with his werewolf healing abilities. It was already closing up. She held a hand over it and spoke a few soft words in ancient Greek, and sunny warm light shimmered from her palm to flow into the wound. The flesh knit back together in the worst parts, almost completely stopping the bleeding.

Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

Jack stood and ruffled his colorful hair, a rare thing to do in the field since he usually wore his dumb cowboy hat. “You’ll live. Let’s get out of here before she calls the cops on us. I think that’s enough of a message for now.”

He nodded. “Sorry,” he said, looking guilty now.

Jack pulled him into a hug, startling him. “It’s not your fault, Jeremy. Sometimes shit happens that we don’t expect. At least it wasn’t worse. You did good by not hurting her.”

“I didn’t want to harm someone unaffiliated with gang life. She was so scared, I’m sure she thought I was gonna… you know. Do something bad. I’d never, though, not in my life.” Jeremy let his head rest on her chest. 

“I know. You did the right thing. Let’s get you home and take a better look at that leg.” Jack pulled back. As a second thought, she plucked a flower from her hair and tucked it behind Jeremy’s ear. He smiled as she took his hand and led him back to the getaway bike just as sirens started up in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stop by my tumblr rage-quitter!

**Author's Note:**

> come stop by on my tumblr [rage-quitter](rage-quitter.tumblr.com) to see more about this au and other stuff i've written!


End file.
